Lost on the prairie, with cranes

He stood on the edge of the prairie,
By a river that stretched to the horizon.
The wind, the grass, and the
Water were enough to remind him of her.
He wanted to take her hand and
Watch the sun sink into the braided landscape.
But he was alone.

“Cwrrr, cwrrrrr, cwrrrrrrr.”
Cranes called in the distance as they
Found him.
High in the sky,
The flock divided over his head,
Twisting, gliding, positioning,
Crossing
To become one again.
Tornadoes of feathered chaos
Filling the air with redundant noise.
Now, waves of cranes,
Careening through the sky to
Replace voids
Left momentarily.
Rising.
Falling.
And rising again.
Uncertain and anxious,
But determined to
go somewhere.

God, he missed her.

The sun slipped below the prairie
To paint the clouds with shades
Of purple and orange.
And, like a band without a drum
Major, the cranes continued to parade
Back and forth
Across the dark sky.
Slowly organizing and losing
Altitude.
Their cries now comfort.
The beat of their wings matched
The pulse of his heart.

By the time the last bird had landed
Safely in the river,
He was surrounded.
Sobbing.
Disorder had become order, and
He was no longer alone on the prairie.
He had found his way home.
He was with Her again,
Among the cranes.


L. Powell
Kearney, NE 11 March 2011

For D., and anyone else who has found themselves while listening to the cranes.

My Year with Leopold: January

As with all great projects, this one starts by being already behind. So, we'll try to catch up with a posting in March about my adventure in February to fulfill my January portion of the project...

Aldo Leopold begins, appropriately (!), "A Sand County Almanac" with "January". The essay is entitled "January Thaw" and it describes a hike over Leopold's property in Sand County, Wisconsin. The theme of the essay is deduction and hypothesis development--Leopold spots several signs of animals (tracks, dive-bombing hawks, darting mice), and he makes predictions about what is going on in their lives on this warm winter day.

I use this chapter in my senior-level capstone course to discuss the art and science of hypothesis development and the scientific method. Good stuff.

One of my favorite sections in the essay happens after Leopold bumps into a meadow mouse, who darts quickly away. Leopold suggests the mouse is...

"...grieved about the thaw. Today his maze of secret tunnels, laboriously chewed through the matted grass under the snow, are tunnels no more, but only paths exposed to public view and ridicule. Indeed, the thawing sun has mocked the basic premises of the microtine [Microtus is the genus name for 'voles'] economic system!"

As I blogged earlier, I participated in a student workshop at a TNC property near Wood River, NE. We had just experienced a February thaw, but winter had descended upon the prairie for at least another day.

I took a quick walk around a prairie to hide some radio-telemetry transmitters for an activity that afternoon, and I was amazed at the number of trails cut through the prairie by big and small animals. Although I hadn't planned it, the above passage in Leopold popped into my head. It was pretty obvious where these little highways had been, and were now exposed. Ironically, the snow was beginning to fall, and it would soon cover the mouse-highways up, again---along with the transmitters and little blue flags that I planted for our students! Doh!

It was darn windy out on the plains, and the snow was smacking me in the eyes. I found it pretty easy to think about how vegetation and snow cover would make for important habitat for creatures that don't have toasty, brick houses with heaters waiting for them.

I plopped down on my chest to try to get a mouse-level perspective of the prairie. Is this a safe haven for a mouse? I heard something rustle under the grass...so, I like to think so. I'd give anything for a 'snorkle-cam' with infrared light source to see the world beneath this matt of grass.

"The mouse is a sober citizen who knows that grass grows in order that mice
may store it as underground haystacks, and that snow falls in order that mice
may build subways from stack to stack: supply, demand, and transport all neatly
organized. To the mouse, snow means freedom from want and fear."

To emphasize how snow can protect mice, here's a most hilarious (and illustrative) video of a red fox in Yellowstone National Park, hunting mice under the snow. The snow does a pretty good job of hiding most of the mice. Luckily for the fox, it doesn't hide all of the mice! Watch the fox tilt its head...triangulating on the sounds.

It's fairly clear to me that I probably miss 95% of what is going on in a prairie (or a forest, or a wetland) when I walk through it. Leopold's lesson for January seems to be to keep your eyes and ears open. Too bad I can't hear as well as a fox!

-----------

My Year with Leopold is a blogging project in which I'm forcing myself to read a chapter of "A Sand County Almanac" each month, and find a way to experience one of the themes in my own way. I'll share my experiences during the year. Play along if you want to. Send comments or links to your own blog!

Thanks to Chris Helzer for reminding me about diving fox videos!

"My Year with Leopold" Project

Last December, I watched the movie Julie and Julia which featured a young woman ("Julie") who decided to cook her way through Julia Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking". Julie blogged about her successes and failures, among other things, during the year--she named her project the Julie/Julia Project.

It's an interesting movie.

But, it got me thinking...because I enjoy blogging...what could a person, in my field of wildlife ecology/management, do for a year as a blogging project?

Well, maybe there are several things a person COULD do. You could select a different campground in Nebraska and camp out once each month (would be fun in the winter!). You could cook a different game recipe every week, following the tradition of the Julie/Julia Project. You could read an article every week from the Journal of Wildlife Management---that doesn't sound fun.

Then, it hit me---Leopold's "A Sand County Almanac" is almost made for such an adventure. Aldo wrote it with monthly themes...perfectly made for a year-long adventure. Living in the paths of Leopold, the Father of Wildlife Management.

For those unfamiliar, "A Sand County Almanac" was written by Aldo Leopold and published (posthumously) in 1949. The first section of the book is split into 12 sections---one adventure and reflection on his interaction with nature in Sand County, Wisconsin for each month. Hence, "almanac." The second section of the book is composed of several essays, including the concluding essay, "The Land Ethic." Obviously, that essay is this blog's foundation.

So, I've got my direction. Once a month, I'll read the appropriate chapter and select some activity to either mimic or build upon a theme in the reading. And, I'll blog about my adventures. At some point, this might be fun to do with a class of students. And, anyone is welcome to play along. I'm NOT calling this "Larkin and Leopold" (although the alliteration is almost too good to pass up) because I think it's something anyone should be able to do!

Of course, you may be noticing...it's March. And the year normally starts with January...so, I've got a bit of catch-up to do. But, this should be fun---a forced, personal adventure with Aldo Leopold at my side.

Value of wildlife in Nebraska

If there was any doubt that wildlife have direct, economic value to the state of Nebraska, that question has been laid to rest. A German hunter, this past weekend, paid $117,500 for the winning bid in an auction (in Las Vegas, where else?!) for the rights to a bighorn sheep hunt in western Nebraska.

Nebraska's bighorn sheep population currently sits at about 250-300 individuals. Only two permits are awarded, most years--no permits were given out last year. One permit is awarded at auction, and another is drawn in lottery-fashion for a Nebraska resident. Both winners receive lodging and guiding as part of the hunt package.

The money raised by the auction is used, by Nebraska Game and Parks Commission, to improve bighorn sheep habitat.

I think this is great. It helps the public see that wildlife and our ecosystems can be valued directly, and may help them understand (eventually) the indirect values of the same ecosystems (e.g., wetlands help clense drinking water for cities). I hope we eventually get beyond the status of only seeing value in huntable/watchable wildlife...but that's another blog for another day.

There are complicated issues regarding valuation of wildlife. The biggest problem is that wildlife in Nebraska belong to Nebraskans-at-large (the entire state)--this applies to all states in the USA. So, when Game and Parks receives the money and uses it in the state for conservation, that makes sense to most people. Some people have a problem with individuals benefiting from wildlife on their farm/ranch--a public resource on private land. But, those same farmers/ranchers are also the ones who spend time and money to manage the habitat to support 'our' wildlife. Seems fair, to me, to give them a little kick-back for their efforts--to keep them engaged in conservation.

If you want to read more about this, I'll post a self-serving link to a small booklet that I wrote, called "Farming with Wildlife". It explains how this works in Namibia, a country in southern Africa.

Just for comparison, the hunt for a bighorn sheep in Nebraska brought in more money than it costs to purchase a black rhino in Namibia (which often sell for $50-75,000). Hunts of black rhino go for twice the cost of a sheep hunt: about $250,000. Imagine what a group of private landowners could do, for conservation, with a similar amount of money!

-------------

Personal photo of bighorn sheep in Glacier National Park, 2010.

Those without experience need not apply

The job market for wildlife biologists has always been competitive. As a rule, there are more people interested in working with wild animals and their habitats than there are jobs. Recent cuts in state and federal budgets have made entry-level positions even more rare.

Entry level positions were where college graduates used to get on-the-job training: the hands-on stuff that they didn't get in college classes. As my colleagues and I wrote recently (see page 45 of this on-line publication of The Wildlife Society), Universities are starting to feel the pinch to fill the gap of real-life experience for students. Agencies expect our graduates to be ready to hit the ground running.

So, it stands to reason that students with more experience and longer resumes will be more successful!

Last week, some of my colleagues in the Nebraska Chapter of The Wildlife Society stepped up to the plate to provide a day of valuable experiences to students. The Nature Conservancy helped plan the day, and we had 15 professionals from the Nebraska Game and Parks Commission, US Fish and Wildlife Service, TNC, Pheasants Forever, and the Rocky Mountain Bird Observatory on hand. The theme of the day was 'grassland ecology and management'.

I really enjoyed the day, and we had about 40 students attending from UN-Lincoln, UN-Kearney, Chadron State, and Wayne State. They learned about each other's programs, and we'll look forward to more student/professional collaborations in the future!



Students had a change to try their hand at finding hidden radio-transmitters with telemetry (photo by Chris Helzer). The new snow made the challenge a bit harder than normal. I led this session, and can attest to the pleasures at being outside for 3-4 hours in the cold wind! Reminds a person that they live in Nebraska...

Chris Helzer, with The Nature Conservancy, shared his experience with prairie management. The TNC's property near Wood River, NE is a great resource for these field outings, and they have conducted experiments with patch burning and other management treatments.

Students had a chance to provide some data to the Valentine National Wildlife Refuge (photo by Chris Helzer). Biologists brought several crops (the first storage stomach in birds) from pheasants, prairie-chickens, and sharp-tailed grouse. Students dissected them and attempted to identify the contents to develop an assessment of their diets. Poison ivy was a big contributor to their diet, along with some small, mysterious (and yet unidentified) seed that had a bright blue core.




Gerry Steinauer, a botanist with the Nebraska Game and Parks Commission, explained how prairie restorations are accomplished with these seeders (pulled by ATV's). Students saw the processing facility where seeds of prairie plants are sorted, dried, and mixed to create high-diversity seedings.