The Blues Rangers from Mississippi

Extending a land ethic to the next generation is an important task. From time to time, you find someone who has concocted a unique way to do this. I was impressed, today, by our lunch time entertainment at the North American Duck Symposium in Memphis, TN. Four 'forest rangers' with the USDA Forest Service in Mississippi have formed a blues band, known as the Blues Rangers. They have written songs to teach conservation to kids, and they sing in local schools.

We heard the Rattlesnake Blues, along with songs about invasive species, ducks (!), habitat fragmentation, and prescribed burning (one of the guys in the band is a prescribed burning specialist with the Forest Service). The video clip here is a song about neotropical migrants and how they suffer from loss of forest habitat...."they got nowhere to land!"

Enjoy, and think about ways you might follow suit?

Good news for landscapes: birth rates are dropping

Joel Brinkley wrote a most interesting editorial about world birth rates this week. Brinkley's piece, "Falling birth rates portend a very different world," can be found here.

Brinkley reports that only 116 of 224 nations have birth rates above the "replacement rate" (steady population) of 2.1 children per couple. Thirty-four countries, according to Brinkley, have birth rates lower than 1.5. The US is at 2.06, just below the replacement rate.

What does this mean to predictions for world population growth?

"Demographers say the world's overall population will continue growing in the decades ahead but eventually will begin to stagnate and drop -- perhaps later this century. That does offer some benefits. The World Bank's dire prediction -- food production worldwide will have to increase 66 percent by 2055 -- may not turn out to be as problematic as predicted," Brinkley writes.

Some early signs of impacts? Brinkley suggests that the current crisis in the milk industry of the US stems from the fact that there are not as many children to drink milk--leading to overproduction which has led to the need to subsidize prices for milk farmers. Other industries, such as the housing market, will continue to see impacts--as fewer new owners will be in the market.



Landscape view: corn is irrigated with a center pivot
in the midst of semi-arid pastures in Nebraska's Sandhills
near Rose, NE. Photo by Larkin Powell

How is this connected to landscapes and conservation? Many folks have all but given up hope for natural landscapes in states like Nebraska--the mantra that we have to pull out all the stops to "feed the world" is emotionally hard to argue with. I mean, who wants to make babies in Africa starve, if we can solve the problem by ripping out some more prairie and putting in some more irrigation pumps to produce more corn? And, it turns out that the babies are also competing against ethanol for that corn, as well. Landscapes versus food is one thing; landscapes versus food AND fuel is not a fair match.

There are many who suggest that the "feed the world" argument is a straw-man argument in the first place--most of our ag exports goes to wealthy nations, not starving nations. But, even if we assume we can produce our way to feeding the world, falling birth rates have to be seen as good news. Ag production cannot be the only focus--education of women, contraception, and economic development all lead to lower birth rates and fewer mouths to feed.

And, in the end, lower demand for food means more water in our rivers...where it belongs.

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A Christmas Elk?

With appreciation from the Keith County Historical Society, Ogallala, Nebraska. Donated by Mrs. William H. Copeland. 

It's the end of the year, and I have been busy as I try to organize all the photos and stories that I gathered this year from various archives around Nebraska.  As many of you know, I am currently writing a book on the history of wildlife in Nebraska--with a focus on how people have changed landscapes and therefore affected the wildlife in our state.  The book will be filled with stories and photos like the one above.

Culture also changes with time.  The photo is from the Keith County Historical Society. The photo shows shows the Keith County Market, a butcher shop in Ogallala, NE at Christmas time in 1888. It was donated to the Historical Society by Mrs. William H. Copeland, the granddaughter of the butcher at the right in the photo. These personal records are key to understanding how important wildlife has been to the history of Nebraska, and how our landscape and culture have changed since these photos were taken. How many species of wild animals can you see in this photo?!

Did you run out and grab your Christmas Elk this year?  Odds are, you did not.  And, odds are that you did not eat elk all year.  Most of us gobble up beef as a main source of protein, now; as we explored on this blog before, citizens of the US did not always enjoy beef.  We relied much more on wild animals, and had a much more diverse diet! 

So, Happy Holidays to one and all, and enjoy this photo as a window to days gone by, when elk were available in the vicinity of Ogallala (they are now about an hour south or a couple hours north) and when Christmas meant a trip to the butcher to get a measure of nature's bounty.

By the way: if you have stories or photos you would like to share with me, click here to find out how to contact me.  I would love to hear stories or see photos from your family's collection!

Our agreement

I have an agreement with the
large bucks of Nebraska
that stipulates that we will
only come face to face
when I am not carrying my rifle.

This agreement works especially well
for two reasons:
I did not go hunting as much as I should,
and bucks are well-suited to avoid me when I do.

Just yesterday, I was visiting a friend
and awoke early to look out the
bedroom window
to spot a 10-point creature
slowly making its way across
the alfalfa field to the far cedars.
Hunting season: check.
Permit purchased: check.
Gun/ammunition: no.

But, as much as I need a day in the field
that ends with that sacred moment
hidden in a swale while you come
face to face with your own mortality,
I am also grounded by
the view of the tail of that buck as it disappears
into the cedars to prove
that I mean absolutely nothing to him.

Arriving at night

We came to this place
down a road that seemed like
most other roads
in the narrow glare of our high-beams.

We set up camp
with the help of shadows that seemed familiar.
The fire's glow created
a room for two
in this open field,
and there were no surprises as
we drifted to sleep.

But as we awoke,
the dawn made us aware
this place was like no other we had seen before.
The new view from our camp
broadened even as the fog rose
and finally we were standing
as captains of a ship
that has risen from the depths
in an ocean of grass and hills.

And we ask,
How could we have missed this
in the dark?