Celebrating the Bison

On October 30, 2009, a small cohort of 13 bison were released on the Tallgrass Prairie National Reserve in Kansas. Taken from a larger herd of 500 residing in South Dakota, these are probably the first bison to walk on Kansas soil in 140 years. Park managers hope the herd will someday grow to include 100 of these magnificent animals.

Just 500 years ago, an estimated 30 million to 70 million bison roamed the Great Plains of North America. Then as now, they played a critical role in prairie ecosystems. In a prairie without bison, a handful of grass species come to dominate all the others, crowding out rival plants and reducing diversity in the process. By grazing and trampling taller grasses, bison mediate plant competition in such a way as to allow a larger variety of species to prosper.

By the beginning of the 20th century, the bison that once dominated the Midwest were on the brink of extinction. The culprits: white settlers who plowed under their habitat and hunted them for tongues, humps, hides and sport. The extermination of the bison undermined the way of life of the Plains Indians, and transformed the face of a vast landscape. The thirteen individuals reintroduced to Kansas last week owe their existence to a handful of animals once kept at the Bronx Zoo in New York.

A few weeks ago, my husband and I had the privilege of visiting the Tallgrass Prairie National Reserve. Only a couple hours’ drive from Kansas City, the 10,000 acre reserve is located in the heart of the Flint Hills. On site, one can visit historical buildings (including a one-room prairie school), opt for a bus tour, or hike a variety of trails. We spent about five hours wandering the rolling landscape of the back country, grateful for the clouds that kept the sun off our faces, delighted by the sense of wide open space the tall grass prairie inspires. It was a little late in the season for viewing wildlife – and the bison hadn’t arrived yet – but we saw plenty of tracks, including coyote and cats, and we flushed a couple flocks of prairie chickens. After all my years working in the dense forests of the tropics, I was amazed by how well creatures of the prairie can hide themselves behind little more than a few tufts of grass.

As a child growing up in the Midwest, I read the entire Little House series by Laura Ingalls Wilder – multiple times. In grade school I had my own sun bonnet and prairie dress, and I watched the TV series faithfully even if I did think it an unsatisfying imitation of Wilder’s enchanting autobiography. I imagined the long wagon rides through endless plains of waving grasses, and I wished I could know something of her world. Prairie reserves did not exist back then. Conservation was something that happened in other places, with forests and mountains and hotsprings and geysers. The complete absence of something called ‘prairie conservation’ or ‘prairie restoration’ did not even strike me as odd until years later when I became a student of ecology.

In April of 2007, while I still resided in Costa Rica, National Geographic ran a story on the Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve, recently established in my home state. That was the first time I heard the prairies were returning to Kansas, and reclaiming their place in the hearts and imagination of my people. I’ve since learned of many other prairie reserves and restoration sites in the region, and each one of them provides a symbol of hope in what has all too often been a world of mindless destruction. The bison now living at the Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve carry our sins and aspirations on their shoulders. I wish them a long and happy life, many offspring, and a renewed planet in which to thrive.

For photos of the bison released, please visit

http://www.kansascity.com/934/gallery/1540390-a1540317-t3.html


For more information about the Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve, please visit

http://www.nps.gov/archive/tapr/home.htm

http://www.nps.gov/tapr/index.htm

On Germany and the Tropical Forests

I’m in Marburg, Germany, attending the joint meeting of ATBC & gtoe, two international professional societies dedicated to the study and conservation of tropical forests. I’ve had more than one eyebrow lift in response to this. “Tropical ecology, in Germany?” they ask. Even my German cousins seem unaware of the many excellent ecologists their country has produced. I say to them, what better place for the academy to meet than in a 500-year-old university? What better place to celebrate the adventure of discovery in the tropics than in the homeland of Alexander von Humboldt?



Of course, 200 years ago when Humboldt did the groundbreaking work that gave rise to biogeography, South America was a very different place. The forests were dense, impenetrable, unconquerable. In Humboldt’s time, a conference like this would have been an endless unfolding of discovery after discovery after exciting discovery. Things are different now. The discoveries are still out there waiting to be made, but we have precious little time to uncover them as we rush to save the forests themselves. So now when tropical ecologists get together, in addition to all the exciting discoveries, there is an endless discussion of “What are we to do?”, a sort of intellectual wringing of hands. I’ve heard some hopeful news these past few days, but for the most part the overall scenario is pretty depressing.



So today I decided to play hooky and take a short break from it all. I took the back way up to Landgrassen Castle, walking sunflecked paths through young woods. I spotted a few familiar birds here and there, but otherwise it is an empty forest. The wolves and wisents and all the other interesting creatures that once inhabited Europe are long gone, but it was refreshing and beautiful and a worthy use of my time. I had my lunch at the foot of the castle. Landgrassen is tall but not towering. It sits solid and wide, a stone monument that defies the passage of time. For a moment I thought it would be nice to look for a pamphlet or small book on the history of Marburg, but there is much to be said for simply wandering through the cobblestone streets and absorbing the feel of it all. I like to imagine the echoes of time, and to envision the spirits of all the people who lived and died in this world.



Is history not, in some sense, imagined? I’ll have to pose that question to a true historian some day.



Marburg lies but a few kilometers from the obscure village of Kirchundem, the childhood home of my paternal grandfather. These lands gave birth to the surname “Gastreich” in the 14th century, during the same period Landgrassen Castle was built. My origins, but not my home. Still, there’s something familiar about this place in a deep organic kind of way. The biologist in me might say my methyl groups are buzzing.



I first came to this area in 1975 with my grandfather. I still remember sitting on his lap in the streets below Bitburg Castle. He filled my head with all kinds of fairytales. Or perhaps it is fairer to say he indulged the fantasies of an eight-year-old girl who wanted very much to believe she had something of a Princess inside of her. The first Gastreich lived in Bitburg Castle, and the surname derives from Old German meaning “taster of wines”. So I was told my ancestors had a very noble job, being winekeepers for the counts of Bitburg. Years would pass before I learned more about the reality of those times, at which point it occurred to me the first Gastreich was probably screening for poison.



History in its reality is so much more interesting than our fantasies allow. It is full of heroic, visionary exploits like those of Humboldt. But it is also full of terrible things humans have done to each other over and over and over. Castles exist in part because humans have such a persistent tendency to attack each other with all manner of cruel weapons. Yet castles are beautiful. They inspire awe, imagination, and romantic notions of timeless perspectives. How does one reconcile this paradox of beauty arising from brutality? I don’t know, and I don’t think I’ll ever have the answer to that question. But despite the barbarities of the feudal system that made them possible, I love castles. I look at Landgrassen and I think, “We can do more than destroy. We can build things that last. We can leave monuments of beauty that inspire generation after generation."

We did this with our castles, and I believe we can do it again with our forests.

Eolyn now available on authonomy

I’d like to invite you to preview the opening chapters of my first novel Eolyn, now available on the Harper-Collins website, authonomy.com

Embedded in the rich history of the Kingdom of Moisehen, Eolyn is a beautiful story about the enduring strength of friendship and magic in a world of intolerance, hatred and war.

To access the first chapters of the book, use the following link: http://www.authonomy.com/ViewBook.aspx?bookid=10035

When you read Eolyn, please register with authonomy.com. This will allow you to provide feedback on my book, as well as on any other novels you find on the site. If you like what you read, please help me spread the word about Eolyn by doing the following:

• Put Eolyn on your authonomy.com bookshelf.


• Tell your friends about Eolyn, so that they can visit the site, too!
  

Writing Eolyn has been an incredible journey, and I want to take this opportunity to acknowledge the many people who have accompanied me on this adventure so far.

First, the people and places who inspired this story: All the amazing women who have touched my life (you know who you are!), and the forests of Talamanca, Osa and Braulio Carrillo.

To Rafael, without your love and support Eolyn would never have come to be.

To Suzanne, who absolutely loved the first, terrible draft of this book. Without your enthusiastic encouragement, there wouldn’t have been any rewrites.

To the Dead Horse Society, who helped me move this piece from an interesting idea to an entertaining read.

To everyone who at some point enjoyed (or suffered through) an earlier draft of the entire novel: Jerad Flood, Joe Baric, Tepring Cocker, Lisa Shephard, Maddie McFadden, Jennifer Weise, Helga Gastreich, Loren Whittaker, Sarah Mountford, Kattia Mendez. Your comments and suggestions were invaluable.

To everyone at thenextbigwriter.com who read and commented on many chapters, with a special thanks to Klaatu, Venator, and the Fantasy Writer’s Forum.

To those of you who haven’t yet – Read Eolyn! You won’t regret it. It’s a great story.

Squaw Creek National Wildlife Refuge

One of the great joys of returning to the Midwest has been the opportunity to rediscover the natural heritage of my homeland. After 10 years of living in one of the most biodiverse countries on the planet, I confess I’d become a bit of a bio-snob. It was hard to imagine Kansas and Missouri would have much to offer in terms of wildlife destinations and hiking opportunities. But I’m happy to find myself proven wrong.

This year my husband and I took advantage of Easter weekend to visit Squaw Creek National Wildlife Refuge. Just a couple hours north of Kansas City, Missouri, Squaw Creek protects wetland habitats created by the meandering Missouri River. It is surrounded by loess soil mounds, low sharp peaks of rich soil left by the last glaciers. With just 7,350 acres, the reserve provides refuge for at least 277 species of birds, with another 33 reported as ‘accidentals’.

When we arrived Friday afternoon, we hiked the Loess Bluff Trail. Located behind the visitor’s center, this path climbs up about 200 feet and affords spectacular views of the wetlands below. Under the clear sky, the expanse of water looked like a silver-blue mirror dusted with the shadows of ducks, geese, reeds and slow currents. Coming down the trail behind the visitor’s center we were treated to several fun sightings, including tufted titmice, a red bellied woodpecker, black-capped chickadees and the white-breasted nuthatch. We also had the pleasure of seeing a rabbit hiding in the brush, its furry body absolutely still, its long ears rotated back and focused intently on us. Not too far away we heard the loud gawky call of a pheasant followed by the rapid beating of its wings, but unfortunately we were unable to spot the bird.

Evening on the waterfront relaxed our spirits. We watched a full red sun set over the tranquil pools. Tiny midges filled the air. They looked and swarmed like mosquitoes, but fortunately for us they were not at all blood thirsty. Mallards, northern shovelers, American coots and snow geese were the most common birds on the waters that day. Their clucks were numerous but quiet. At dusk, barn swallows swooped down over the waters to feed on the insects, and a small group of deer appeared in the open fields behind us. Our last sighting was a barred owl perched in the trees at the park’s exit.

Saturday we drove the 10-mile auto tour loop. To truly enjoy the loop, you have to take your time – stop often, get out of the car, walk along the edge of the ponds and take the short trail out to the observation point between Eagle and Pelican Pools. On our second afternoon, the species count topped 30, including the pine siskin, blue winged teal, the lesser scaup, the hooded merganser and a ring-necked pheasant. We also observed turtles, several muskrats, an otter and a beaver. On the west side of Pelican Pool, we had the extraordinary privilege of seeing a pair of bald eagles nesting. Just as we arrived, one of the parents soared in with a freshly caught fish for the nestlings.

Since many migratory birds make their stop at Squaw Creek, visitors are likely to see different species at any given time of year. We plan to go back to see the summer, fall and winter flocks. Squaw Creek is a backyard treasure for the Kansas City area. If you haven’t yet had a chance to see it, I highly recommend you do.

For more information, visit the park’s website at http://www.fws.gov/refuges/profiles/index.cfm?id=33560

Breadfruit

Breadfruit, Altocarpus altilis, belongs to the family Moraceae, which includes the mulberry and figs. Native to Malaysia and the western Pacific, the tree is now cultivated throughout the tropics.

Like many members of the Moraceae family, breadfruit has large tough leaves with a milky latex. In some regions, the latex of breadfruit is used for caulking boats.

The fruit is about the size of a small soccer ball. Rich in starch, it is a staple food in many regions. It can be roasted, baked, fried or boiled. With a little salt, it tastes more or less like a potato.

Breadfruit has been cultivated by humans for a long time, and many of the hybrids and cultivars are seedless. This means that they cannot be dispersed without the aid of humans. The fact that breadfruit is completely dependent on humans for dispersal has made this a useful tool for elucidating patterns of human migration in the Pacific Islands. By applying molecular dating techniques to hybrids and cultivars, scientists can trace the movement of breadfruit across the Pacific Islands through time. This data can then be combined with archeological information to infer migration patterns of humans.

Zerega, Nyree J. C., Diane Ragone and Timothy J. Motley. 2004. Complex origins of breadfruit (Artocarpus altilis, Moraceae): implications for human migrations in Oceania. American Journal of Botany 91:760-766.)

Passifloraceae

Passion plants (genus Passiflora, family Passifloraceae) have stunning, brightly colored flowers. The size and structure of the flower is optimized for pollination by hummingbirds. The species Passiflora edulis (not shown here) is cultivated throughout the tropics for its sweet and juicy fruit.

This genus includes about 500 species and is mostly tropical in distribution. Passiflora vines are most diverse in South America, but can also be found in Asia, New Guinea, Australia and New Zealand.

Wild Passiflora plants have several interesting strategies for deterring herbivores. The leaves contain cyanogenic glycosides and other secondary compounds that are toxic for most animals. Some insects, most notably caterpillars of the butterfly genus Heliconius, are adapted to feed on Passiflora. To deter Heliconius females from laying eggs on the plant, some Passiflora vines have pale spots on their leaves that mimic butterfly eggs. Because it is disadvantageous for their offspring to compete with other caterpillars for food, Heliconius females will avoid leaves that appear to have eggs on them. Passiflora also use extrafloral nectaries to attract ants and parasitoids that prey on Heliconius caterpillars.

Good News for Regeneration of Tropical Forests

Tropical Forests Recover From Clear-Cutting
Emily Sohn, Discovery News

Feb. 18, 2009 -- Deforestation is generally considered to be bad news, especially in the tropics. But there may be some hope: In many places, trees are growing back, according to new research, and some of the new forests are nearly as diverse as the old ones were.

The work adds to a growing sense that tropical forests are more resilient than scientists previously thought and that second-growth forests are far from worthless.

To read the full story, visit the Discovery Channel website at http://dsc.discovery.com/news/2009/02/18/deforestation-trees.html