Of fences, strangers, and waterbirds

Piping Plover photo from US Fish and Wildlife Service website by C. Perez

This past week we helped remove fencing from an area which safeguarded shorebirds during the breeding season.  The simple act of erecting a fence helps protect eggs and young chicks from clueless humans walking the shoreline.  The breeding season is over (what happened to summer?) and it's time to get the fencing, stakes, and signs out of the way until next year. 

We drove south from our inland location to the shoreline in all its vast openness.  As we get closer, we observe the tapering off of the conifers, oaks, and ash trees; the onslaught of smaller houses (mostly) nestled close together; and the flat openness of the landscape.  I never quite get over the fact that all that ocean is less than an hour away from our house.  We just don't visit enough.

The salty humidity complemented the hazy sunlight very well.  A good wind and some foreboding clouds completed the picture.  The night had been stormy with lightning and thunder sounding as though it was exploding over the house.  Rain forced us to close the windows so fans were racing madly to move the hot air around.  Overall, it wasn't a good night for sleeping.  But here at the beach, a good wind moved the wet air around and it was invigorating.

We met the conservation folks and the bird people.  The state conservation folks were welcoming but reserved.  They had seen people come and go.  Volunteers excited and involved one day often disappeared into the mist the next time they were needed.  Were we worth the extra effort?  Were we sane?  Yet, they gave us attention and kindly guided us as to where they wanted us to go and what they wanted us to do.  One of them had driven almost two hours to reach this spot and supervise these volunteers. 

The other volunteers gave us wan smiles in greeting.  I guess we were on their turf.  Perhaps they too were used to new people coming and going.  Perhaps they wanted to do their thing without inexperienced newbies getting in the way.  Who knows?  But we gamely twisted twine, pulled stakes, and saved signs.  With all of us working together, the job didn't take more than an hour. 

Now there was thunder and lightning on the horizon and the storm clouds were approaching. The day didn't invite dalliance.  But I admired these people's intimacy with their shoreline; and their quick knowledge of the birds crying and circling overhead.  Yet today was no time to delay and talk.  


Sometimes you have to come, do the work, and get out.  For the volunteers, perhaps we'll be worth the extra effort if we show up to help the next time.  To the birds, it didn't matter what we were doing, how masterful our bird identification skills were, or how intimately we knew the area, we couldn't leave their shoreline soon enough. 

Trouble with MAM

The air is thick, hot and wet and the sky is bright with humid sun at midday.  Moving through weeds over my head, I follow a deer trail and hope my hunch that they use this trail to cross the bridge is correct.  Grasshoppers and stinkbugs cling desperately to the grasses as I move sideways through the "trail" using my foot to tamp down grasses before moving through.  I see where the deer have bedded for the night as I detect the pungent odor of their recent presence.  How they can move through this trail without widening the space between the grasses is impressive. Or, perhaps, how the grasses can pop back without being permanently damaged is impressive.  Either way, I'm hot and move on.

I find a few MAM vines and know that where there are a few...And soon enough my hunch proves correct (thankfully) and I reach sight of the MAM-infested bridge.  MAM nearly covers it.  The plant's thin, waifish stems conceal tiny barbs that stick into your skin and make you feel as though you've raked your hand over a sliver-infested piece of wood.  The vines move up the bridge supports and under the railings.  Tiny green berries are beginning to form and soon will form luscious-looking blue berries ready to be greedily consumed by a bird or rodent, or worse stored away in a location currently lacking MAM.  Either way, the plant is spread to the new spot.  The MAM's location here on the bridge and along the riverbank is especially insidious as the berries float and will be carried downstream enabling the plant to colonize virgin areas.

At this point, I can no longer move by making a trail by pushing down the grasses because the MAM holds them together like a binding.  The MAM sticks to my clothes and boots, rakes my face, and literally encompasses me as I dig for my clippers.  I should have brought a machete if only for the fleeting satisfaction that I'm fighting back.  Instead, I clip my way out of the mess.  And that is exactly what it is.  A mess of tangled vines and barbs covering, smothering, the native plants and grasses and forming a monoculture of victorious MAM that few creatures will eat.

Even the weevils the Agricultural Experiment Station released seem to be limited in their effect.  Sure, they're eating their native MAM, but how much can something tinier than a tick eat?  And will it eat in enough time to turn the tide and limit MAM's exponential expansion?

I opt for the river instead of fighting my way through the MAM now obstructing the other side of the bridge too.  Tentatively feeling for the bottom of the river I wish I wore my waders (which I ripped the last time I did this).  My knee-high boots seem to be okay and I move slowly in the river staying away from the MAM's barb-infested banks.  I see the point where the weevils were released and observe deer tracks exiting the river.  It appears that the deer chose the same path I took!  Instead of fighting their way through the MAM, the deer took to the river.  That is something I would have been interested in seeing.  MAM is not just a human scourge; the deer don't seem to be too keen on it either.

Reaching my release point, I observe the weevils dutifully eating the MAM as it proliferates.  They eat the tender shoots but are not on every stem of the plant.  Weevil damage here is low.  So there remains lots of MAM to spread and expand.  More berries here too; some already ripened.  I do my counts and take my photos for the record.

The fact that the weevils survived the flooding and beaver damming is a good sign.  They're reproducing and spreading.  The MAM is outpacing them though.  I think that a controlled removal project is needed.  But how and who to do the work?

This morning I saw a public works crew around a small fire they had lit in an abandoned parking lot.  Are these people going to be in charge of MAM removal?  Can we hope that they will check the machinery and ensure that no MAM is clinging to it before they move it to the next spot? Even if instructed to do so?  Will they only begin to cut when they're at the MAM infestation thus leaving the native plants to thrive and go to seed in order to attempt a war of plant growth next growing season?  Will they try to limit the damage the machines will do to the river banks?

We don't have funding to pay laborers to remove MAM and our commissions are taxed with their existing agendas.  The last time I held a "pull party", we ended up with some well-intentioned older people, bored and apathetic teenagers whose parents dropped them off to get community service in time for graduation, and a German Shepard.  Oh, and me.  We were quite the motley mix, but we made some progress.  There is just too much to hand pull.  But we may do a better job than those particular alleged professionals.  I suppose I should make some calls.

Rules and National Parks

Recently, I traveled to the Rocky Mountains and, after feeling as though I was dying from lack of oxygen for the first few days, I settled into a regular daily hike on the myriad trails the parks offer.  It was really nice to move amidst plant life that I couldn't identify.  Not even a clue. 

Here in New England I find my hikes are marred by thoughts of "that's an invasive plant", "that invasive is crowding out the native maple-leaved viburnum", "when did the Japanese Stiltgrass get here", "the bittersweet will probably take out that tree in a few winters".  There, in the west, although I did have a guidebook, it was pleasant to live in ignorance for a while.  But then I noticed the signs. 

"No pets on the trails", "Stay on the trails", "No Parking", "Carry out what you carry in".  And of course, there were people walking on the trails with their dogs, forging new trails over decades old lichen, parking on the grasses, and leaving evidence of themselves.  Why do people do these things?  Why is this attitude so prevalent?  Are there states (neighborhoods?) that are home to people who actually follow the rules?  Do people know these rules are not random, that they're there for a reason. 

Dogs can disturb nesting birds, trample sensitive plants, and void all over...and you know the owner isn't going to pick it up.  Hell, they don't pick it up on their neighbors' lawns, they're going to pick it up in a national park?   Is that why a perfectly decent-looking older couple had their dog (obviously not a guide dog, or even a trained dog) in the park on the trails? 

Having worked in enforcement, I saw this all the time.  Rules were there, but when it came to protecting the environment, people would break them.  In addition, some enforcement agents would look the other way.  It was just too much to tell the nice little old lady that Fido can't be on the trails.  The guy in the BMW was going to be trouble and could park where he liked.  The family could let their kids trample where they pleased. 

Most people want to be liked and don't like confrontation, but when it's your job and you know (or learn quickly) that the attitude "I can do as I please" is rampant, you learn to put on your big boy/girl pants and protect the environment.  Or get out. 

Flying back home, I saw the widespread changes we've made to our environment. I do worry about the future.  My children's, their children's, and even yours.  I'm concerned about the plants and animals.  I can do nothing but hope that for their future, for all our futures, we learn to do the right thing before it's too late for many of the species we're just not caring enough about day to day.

Fact is that we don't have all the knowledge we need to identify the species that absolutely must be preserved.  Which are the "keystone" species that we really need?  Funny thing is that all species have their place and few, if any, if lost have no negative impact on the habitat or on the other species remaining.  And that includes us.  So, it's in our best interest to protect what we can.

But then I remember that I can do somethings.  I can talk to others about what I've learned and try not to be so disappointed when it doesn't change their minds.  I can hope to lead by example.  I can keep my dogs on trails that allow them, can carry out what I've carried in.  I can stay on the trail.  And I can stay the hell off the grasses.  And hope that will be enough before I add myself to the compost heap. 

To Pull or Not to Pull

Recently I finished monitoring Mile-a-Minute Vine ("MAM") on several properties in a neighboring town.  The vine was just starting to bud.  This is very early.  In my experience, it usually doesn't bud until July, but with the warm winter, warm spring, and plenty of recent rainfall lots of plants, and birds for that matter, are doing their thing earlier than usual . If you're a native plant, or a human that's involved in MAM removal, the fact that MAM is reproducing earlier isn't a good thing.  

MAM, Persicaria perfoliata, is an invasive annual vine imported, probably by accident since I can't imagine why anyone would choose to plant it, from Asia.  It's related to native tearthumb plants.  MAM is a thin deciduous annual vine that has tiny barbs on its stem which stick into your skin if you're trying to pull it out or pass through it on a trail.

MAM has ocrea, triangular-shaped leaves, has inconspicuous flowers, and produces blue berries.  In addition, it can grow up to six (6) inches in a day, hence its name "mile a minute".  It grows over and covers native plants killing them since they can't photosynthesize under the leafy vine.  Even though the plants are annuals, they are prolific seeders and seeds persist in the soil for about six years. 

A few of the sites I visited are experimental.  This means that in an attempt to combat the MAM, Asian weevils were carefully studied, raised and released on the properties in the hope that the weevils would do here what they do in Asia:  The weevils eat the MAM; they use its stems to harbor larvae and keep the plant under control.

It's going to take a while for the weevils to do their jobs although on one site, it seems as though they're starting to be effective at reducing the MAM population.  However, the MAM isn't waiting around to be eaten.  It's growing quickly and spreading fast.  

Some land managers are pulling the MAM even in areas where the weevils were released.  This can be problematic to the scientists doing their experiments as the weevils burrow into the MAM's stems.  So if you're pulling MAM, you could be destroying weevil larvae in the stems or later, in the ground where they spend a portion of their life cycle.

I understand the managers desire to pull the plants.  MAM is a prolific grower.  Mice, birds and deer eat the berries and spread the seeds in their excrement.  There are even reports of insects moving seeds.  Water, too, carries the seeds and berries downstream thereby spreading it further.  Pulling the plants does work fairly effectively to keep it under control.  However, manual pulling is time consuming and laborious.  

Some people prefer to let the weevils do their job.  This is an experiment and should be treated carefully.  Let the scientists do the experiment to better learn how the weevils work and what the interplay is between the MAM, the environment, the weevils.  Let the scientists learn what the dynamics are.  Let nature do its work...or not.  But altering the variables isn't helping to determine whether or not the weevils will work effectively in this country.

In the interim, however, MAM is growing, producing berries, seeding the soil, being spread by animals, birds, insects, and water.  The whole thing is quite the conundrum.

Pull the MAM or let the weevils do their work?  I hope those weevils eat fast. 

No touchdowns today, only fumbles

Odd thing happened this week.  It was something I suppose I knew but just didn't think much about:  People on the same team don't always play nice with each other. Even though by not playing nice, no one really wins.

For example, this week I received an email from a young person who received my contact info from an environmental group I did some work for a while ago.  She was polite and asked whether I (and several other people) would be willing to give her some guidance with a project she was planning.  This project involved "clean up" of a river instate.  At first, I thought, "I've enough work, thanks", but my conscience kicked in and I replied I'd be happy to discuss the project with her.  Fumble 1.

It seems, in a follow-up email, she did not just want to talk about it. She wanted me to drive to her town and follow the river with her examining each area "to be cleaned up".  My job, it seemed, would be to tell her how to clean up the river without being environmentally damaging as there were several downed trees, woody debris, roots, etc. She wanted to clean those up too (in addition to the trash -- which I thought was the object of all this "cleaning").

I said I was concerned about her project as fallen trees and woody debris actually create wildlife habitats for fish, macroinvertebrates, amphibians, reptiles, and mammals.  It's really amazing how much habitat, food, and shelter a fallen tree can create.  Also, did she clear this project with her town's inland wetlands department as this seems like something that a town would want to review before allowing.  Okay? We're on the same team. We both want what is best for the river...right? 
I received an email back basically saying, "Look you old fool, I'm doing all this fabulous work for the community and I've got guidance and I don't need you to try to limit me.  Plus, people are complaining about flooding and erosion and this will help them because it will look better!  Plus, we can kayak down the river without being stopped by blockages!" 

Okay, she didn't say that, but that was what I got out of it.  As I'm only an ornery cur sometimes, I withheld my thoughts that this kid is uneducated and misguided.  I replied that a chat and a records review at town hall is important and I unfortunately couldn't help in the way she wanted.  At least that was the gist of it.  I really didn't and don't have the time for a big project like this. Frankly, I don't feel I'm qualified to make the kind of decisions that would definitely affect both the river and people's property. 

I believe that while it's ok to remove trash from the river, removing woody debris and fallen trees are a different matter.  Properly researching each blockage would and should take a good deal of careful consideration.  Each blockage, for example, would require consideration of river dynamics, condition of the banks, flow, neighborhood, etc.  Doing something to one part of the river has downstream effects.  Sometimes rivers aren't accessible...and that's ok. And when did we decide that removing the "blockages" was the environmentally correct way to go?

Fumble 2?  I cc'd the person who suggested she contact me.  Well, he was ticked off and let her know that she was taking on this questionable project without proper background, legal notice, education, guidance, etc.  I agreed but knew this wouldn't end well.

Well, he got lambasted back.  Supreme Court decisions were cited.  Portions of court cases, etc.  It was really totally out of context, not addressing the issues, and painful to read.  I mean, this person is asking for help, but only the type of help she wants.  She only wants to hear what is on her agenda.  I know this issue is not a woman thing because I know alot of women who are 1) smarter than I am, and 2) exemplary environmental stewards.  I know it's not a young person's thing because I know alot of young people who are 1) smarter than I am, and 2) very environmentally astute.  Why is it then, that here is someone with so much misguided energy and drive?

Fumble 3.  I didn't let her know this and still won't.  To be fair, I really don't know if this is a mistake, but based on what I'm hearing (and reading), she has made up her mind and doesn't want guidance, she wants help.  She doesn't want to learn, she wants to be enabled.  It's different.

She took the time to ask for guidance and that's a good thing.  It's unfortunate for her, and probably for the river, that she won't accept any.  We all want clean water and a healthy environment.  Deciding how to accomplish that is the play, so let's remember that we're all on the same team and work together.  We can't afford to lose.

Common barberry and greed

This will not be a popular post for the folks who choose to market, sell, and plant barberry.  But frankly, I don't care.

Common barberry is an invasive plant.  According, to the Connecticut Invasive Plant Working Group:  "Invasive plants are non-native plants that are disruptive in a way that causes environmental or economic harm, or harm to human health. In Connecticut, the Connecticut Invasive Plants Council has developed a list of non-native plants that cause (or have the potential to cause) environmental harm in minimally-managed areas."

Barberry plants cause harm, environmental, physical, aesthetic harm.  To humans:  Studies show that barberry harbors mice which harbor deer ticks which harbor Lyme Disease.  Lyme Disease is a debilitating condition that really has no cure.  It can linger in the body for years and flare up causing neurological, physical, emotional, and psychological damage.

I've walked in barberry and have emerged coated in ticks.  One friend reported emerging with at least 40 ticks on her after five minute foray to check on a vernal pool.  Besides the ticks, the shrubs' thorns tear at your clothes and skin.  If you try to manually move it out of your way, the thorns slice into your hands.  It is hard moving through it, even wearing leather gloves and chaps.  

Barberry limits predators access to small prey species like mice and chipmunks.  Coyotes, hawks, and owls have just as much difficulty as humans getting through it, probably even more considering we don't have to dive into it to get a meal.  Barberry apparently harbors the rodents that hawks and other predators need for food.  The predators find it difficult to move through the thorns to get at the rodents.  So the mice thrive.

Barberry causes ticks (carrying Lyme and other tick-born diseases) to thrive on the thriving mice thereby increasing the thriving incidence of tick-borne diseases in domestic dogs, cats, and...humans. 

Barberry limits native plants.  Barberry crowds out natives like Lady's Slipper, Jack-in-the-Pulpit, Trillium, Ghost plant, and even larger shrubs like spiceberry, low- and high-bush blueberry, shadbush.  The list goes on.  Instead of experiencing New England's native understory, anyone entering a forest of barberry sees only a monoculture of thorny bushes. 

So, what's the solution?  Don't plant it.  Eradicate it when you see it on your property.   Makes sense, no?


Yet, some nursery growers continue to advertise it, stock it, and sell it.  Why? Because it's legal.  So, this lousy invasive shrub which can basically reproduce by sticking a piece of it in the ground or, by doing nothing but allowing it to live, is sold by otherwise responsible business people to otherwise responsible consumers.  Oh, the nursery will say, this kind of barberry is not invasive, but what proof do they have?  Studies have shown that even the "purple" or "maroon-colored" barberry can revert to its native, prolific invasiveness.  See also:  http://www.nps.gov/plants/alien/fact/beth1.htm 

I've seen barberry for sale for $9.50 a plant.  $9.50?! for something that you can grow by leaving a portion of root or stem in the ground?  $9.50 for something that causes economic and physical harm?  Who does that and sleeps at night?   

At what point do we face the fact the plant is a nuisance, a harbor for things that causes people, animals, and native plants harm?  At what point do nursery owners step up and destroy their stock and sell plants that are native, or non-invasive, or at least plants that cause no harm.   Isn't that what it's all about?  Or is it just about greed? 

Morality and the Back Yard

We're having some landscaping done.  It's unfortunate that I can't do it myself, but my bulging muscle days were over before they began.

Most of the landscaping project involves the removal of some overgrown bushes too close to the house.  These bushes are not native, are blocking the stairs to the deck, and are limiting access to the basement door.  I could cut them back, but their root structure is already blocking the steps making them a trip and fall hazard for anyone who isn't paying close attention.  Like me.  Twice. 

I've waited six weeks for the landscapers to get around to me.  They're slated to come this week.  As I was reviewing the work area, a small bird flushed out of the bushes and on further inspection I spotted a nest with three eggs in it.  Great.  The landscapers are coming and now there is a bird nest I need to think about.  Or do I?  I mean, time is money.  My time.  My money. 

So, do I walk my talk and preserve nature...and wait another three weeks to get the landscapers out here again?  Or, do I get rid of the damn bushes...and nest?  Unfortunately for my current situation, I encourage people to use sustainable landscaping ideas.  I give them ideas and plans and show them how easy it is.  I talk about fostering wildlife and giving it a chance in this anthropocentric world.  And now, in my own backyard, I am inconvenienced by three tiny eggs.  Progress is blocked by three eggs?!  Apparently so. 

In order to be better informed, I researched the eggs.  I find that they are not from some native, endangered, soon-to-be-eradicated-from-the-planet bird.  They are House Sparrows. One of the most prolific birds in the world. 

So, I look up House Sparrows and find that the little buggers are a black-hatted cowboy of the birding world. According to http://birding.about.com/od/birdprofiles/a/hosphistory.htm, they were introduced to the Americas in the mid-1850s to remind people of the old world (great idea folks) and protect grain crops from insects.  Of course, it was then discovered that they only eat insects during breeding time and eat grain (and anything else they can) the rest of the year.  (Nothing like a little research before introducing a foreign species).  Indeed, they spread like...rats.  They can be very aggressive and have been known to destroy bluebird eggs.  They will even attack and kill nesting bluebirds. Audubon Omaha, while giving several passive control options, also lists "active" control options (http://audubon-omaha.org/bbbox/ban/hsbyse.htm), including wringing the sparrows' necks.

After noodling the issue, I decided I'd destroy the eggs and be done with this conundrum.  Out I go to the bushes to do the deed.  There, after a night of cold, driving rain, is one little chick barely holding its head up.  Great.  The dratted egg hatched!  Of course, this poor, wobbly little chick probably pushed its siblings out of the nest in the cold night in order to be the sole survivor and get all the food, attention, homestead, and trust fund.

I'm faced with another conundrum: Do I give wildlife, unpopular wildlife, a chance?  Do I sacrifice a life for my convenience?  Do I kill a defenseless baby bird just to have my bushes removed?  Do I extinguish a baby bird which may grow up to rampage against bluebirds?  Do I mercifully obliterate one bird which will destroy native bluebirds?  Do I actively control a bird which will painfully murder native songbirds and threaten their very existence in New England?

Maybe I'll just have a scotch, watch my step, and wait until it flies away.