Our Everyday Nature/From Under a Tree

Braxton Renfro, Geography Junior, University of North Texas

Our Everyday Nature

I began my observation of the ecosystems around me in the Library Mall at the University of North Texas. I consider this to be the core of campus. It was the thirteenth of February, 2014 and the sun was finally shining bright and warm after several weeks of cold cloudy weather. I first noticed that almost all of the plant life here was oriented with a decorative purpose. I’m sure a landscaping company contracted by UNT is responsible for the arrangement and maintenance of these plants. I believe most of the plants here are non-native species and are here for their aesthetic appeal; however, some of the trees here are tall and old and are a subtle reminder that this was once a wild forest. As I watch the mass of students flowing through the corridors to their next class I notice three squirrels foraging in the grass; no doubt hungry after the cold winter. No one seems to notice the squirrels as they hurry to their next lecture. In fact it appears the squirrel don’t notice the students either! They pay no heed to the ‘potential threats’ that walk by them as they eat their lunch. I image this is because a mutual relationship has formed from the UNT campus being a part of the squirrels range. The students leave food (intentionally or not) behind that the squirrels can eat due to their niche to digest a wide variety of foods. The students benefit by not having rotten food lying around and get to enjoy the presence of this delightful mammal. Many of the trees I previously talked about are nut bearing and are an important contributor to the squirrels range. My ears are consumed by the sounds of construction due to the remodeling of the University Union. But hidden behind the sounds of construction and people I hear a single bird singing a song. I believe it is a mocking bird although I cannot say for sure. I ask myself, do I not hear more birds due to the chaos of campus or is it simply due to the time of day.

As I transition from the core of campus to my backyard north of campus, I move from a university setting through a small commercial area and into a residential area. As I move through campus it resembles the core in many ways, such as decorative plants and a plethora of squirrels. The commercial area commonly referred to as Fry Street has few signs of nature and is dominated by buildings and parking lots. Once in the residential segment of my transition there is notable difference to the components of the ecosystem. There are many yards that are home to grasses, trees and gardens. Cats and dogs can be found in almost any direction you look. There are several intermitted streams that run through the neighborhoods that send rainfall to the Elm Fork of the Trinity River. I’m sure I overlook many details of the ecosystem every day as I roll by on my bicycle.

I spent the majority of my time observing my backyard. It was the sixteenth of February, 2014 and would be considered a perfect day by most. The sun is warm and the breeze is cool. There are clouds in the sky but do not dominate it. Mostly the vast blue light that is scattered by our atmosphere is seen above. I hear the sound of a woodpecker pecking for bugs to eat in a distant tree. Sometimes I will see him at the top of a large pecan tree that resides in my backyard. The tree is about fifty feet tall and provides excellent shade for the house as well as a home for many bugs and food for the squirrels and birds. There are several yuccas in our backyard that were transplanted by my roommate from the alleyway behind our yard. The yucca is native to this area and I wonder if they grew in the ally naturally. A hawk briefly glides over my yard and then quickly flies off to the northwest possibly spotting his next meal. There are noticeably more birds present here than at the core of campus. I can hear many different songs being sung from my backyard. Every so often the sound of a dog barking or running can be heard. There is no question that the range of the dog has dramatically expanded due to their companionship with humans. Where there are humans there are dogs. You will also notice many cats if you have the eye and the time for it. There is a cat that lives in the greenhouse next door. He is in there now, lying on his towel bed on the top shelf of the greenhouse. The door is left open by our neighbor so that the cat may come and go as he pleases. I have often wondered what an outdoor cat does with its time. How far is its range, what corridors it uses, how often does it hunt birds and mice.



There is a three foot by five foot plot of land at the back of my yard that I dug up last summer to plant a garden. This was when I learned that an above ground garden would have been much less labor intensive than digging one out. The garden was once blooming with life full of tomatoes, peppers, onions, strawberries and squash. After the many days of freezing weather this winter all that remains is the bare and dead steams of the tomato plants and the freeze tolerant strawberry plant. In fact the strawberry plant is flourishing! It no longer has other plants to compete with and has begun to spread across the garden, splitting into individual plants. When I dug out the garden I discover many sea shell fossils, signs that this was once a sea home to ancient sea creature. The stone they are fossilized in is named the Grayson Marl formation. This dirty limestone is a huge determinant of the type of soil here. The type of soil impacts affects the types of plant that grow here and even how suitable this area is for urban development. The clay rich soils produced by the Grayson Marl have a high shrink swell potential. After a strong rain many of the doors in our house will have trouble shutting. The last thing I notice before going back inside is that the soil I have been talking about is covered by the smaller portion of the ecosystem. Hidden within the patches of different types of grass are countless insects crawling about. I once heard that there is a spider within a few yards of you at all times. With a enough time searching through the grass, you will find a spider.

From Under a Tree


I was fortunate enough to have a car with a busted radiator because it forced me to ride my road bike to Clear Creek today. I could write a whole paper on my journey that took me from my house to the tree I am sitting under and writing these words. However, that is not the purpose of this paper, but I do want to mention the rabbit I encountered during that bike ride. I was carrying my bike through a section along 380 with no side walk when a fairly large rabbit darted from the grass towards the woods. He was foraging no more than 5 feet from the busy highway. It was a subtle reminder that we share this land with wild animals, although we may not always see them. Once I arrived at Clear Creek I made my way towards the prairie. The first thing that catches my eye is a female white tail deer. She was very cautious of me and gradually traveled to the protection of the forest. I found a decent tree to lean against and began to write my observations

As I was preparing my notebook to write in a little creature crawled onto my neck. After shaking it off my neck and onto my leg, I discovered it was a spider. The spider appeared harmless so I guided it back to the tree. The next animal I notice is a hummingbird foraging amongst the flowers while also helping to pollinate them. The mutual relationship between that bird and the flowers is fascinating. These are all things that occurred before I even began writing. It seems as though every time I look up there is something worth noting. Considerably more than the Observation paper that was based on the UNT campus and my backyard.

There are countless birds singing from inside the forest. A single honey bee has passed by me as she traveled from one flower to the next. I expected to see many more bees. Perhaps the time of day is the reason for the absence of bees, for the sun has drifted below the northeastern tree line. There is a noticeable change in temperature. Next I look at the grasses around me. The grasses here in the prairie are taller and much more diverse than the grasses in my backyard. There are even many plants that might not be considered a grass but are about the same height as the grasses. I could not begin to count the number of little insects there are wondering amongst the grass. Each one has their own agenda and contribution to the ecosystem. I wonder how many of these insect species would only be found here in the prairie and not in the forest.

There are at least seven young cedar trees that have been chopped down. I predict this was done to prevent them from taking over this relatively small prairie. The deer I saw earlier may be contributing to the issues we are having with cedar trees. Deer prefer to eat post oak saplings over cedar saplings. A male cardinal just flew into the field and dived at the ground. Perhaps he found dinner. As the sun sets there are noticeably less birds singing. Now I really notice the variety in sound and volume of the birds. The robin in a tree near me has a quiet and gentle song while the grackles that are flying by have a very loud and obnoxious song. It’s worth saying I’ve seen four people and three dogs getting their evening dose of nature and recreation.


I see a bird of prey on the far end of the prairie. The bird is strategically perched at the top of a large tree that is overlooking the field. I watch patiently to see if he will find his evening meal in this field. I wonder if the bird I am watching is watching me too. It is now getting late and I must head back to the city. The things I have written are far from capturing every observation and thought I have had while under this tree. But it is a collection of the ones I was apparently compelled to write about.

Backyard/Clear Creek and LLELA

Stephen Ramsey, Geography senior, University of North Texas

Backyard Observation

The first thing you notice is the post oak trees. They are magnificent. In my yard and the surrounding neighbor’s yards, the trees shoot up 30 to 40 feet. There are 29 post oaks in my backyard. They currently are still hanging on to some of last year’s leaves the rest cover the majority of the yard. Looking at it, we know that we are in the Cross Timbers region. Growing up on the western edge of this region in Stephens County I can imagine how it once looked. On our property there the trees grow so close together it is almost impossible to walk through. One of the main reasons is the briars that accompany the trees in this region. I am already battling these in my backyard. As I look around I can see the little briars sticking up just above the leaves throughout the yard. There is not much grass because of the shade provided by the trees and the owner’s lack of time to remove the leaves in a timely manner. There is a ton of acorns and limbs that have been shed in the litter on the ground.

There are several trees and shrubs that I do not believe are native to the area. The Japanese maple sticks out in one corner. There are several flowering shrubs starting to show signs that they are ready for spring. The tulips have also started poking their shoots out. To make the yard more appealing when I bought it, the previous owners planted several little trees that flower during the spring and summer. There is also a dogwood planted in the other corner. They also planted some ground cover plants but I am unsure of exactly what they are. Looking at the leaves on the ground I see the water oak leaves among them. I wonder if this tree is included in the species native to this region. It is a beautiful evergreen tree in the front yard.

The sound of the train horn rings through the neighborhood. How long has that sound echoed through here? Looking at the retaining walls that are made up of cross ties, I think of my future projects I need to work on. The roots of the post oaks are probably pushing on them assisting in the destruction of the walls. A wasp is crawling on the wall. How and where did he survive the winter? Another project: find his winter hideout I hope it is not inside the house.

A squirrel have realized the dog is laying in the yard. It has started coming down the tree to antagonize the sleeping dog. I am sure it is a “get out of my territory” statement but it seems like a waste of time knowing my older dog. In a large tree in the neighbor’s yard I can see the nest the squirrel made for winter. It is made up of mainly parts of the post oak trees and leaves. I believe it is a grey squirrel but not quite sure. I wonder if they are an immigrant to the region as well. The urban setting has been good to the squirrel. There are several animals we have seen since moving here. Of course there are several species of birds which I can hear now, but we have a regular visitor in the backyard, the opossum have visited the cat bowls on a regular basis. A few weeks ago a skunk was running from the neighbor’s dog down the middle of the road. There are also a large number of feral cats in our neighborhood. The most annoying animal is the parrot in the cage in the neighbor’s yard to the northwest. Whatever benefit a person may get from looking at the plumage cannot make up for the amount of noise that thing makes. I know why they put it outside; I would have already relieved the bird of its ability to make noise.

That is what I observed in my back yard. I am sure when spring comes in full force it will really come alive. Right now the trees look like monuments to the season of winter.


Clear Creek Natural Heritage Center

Mission
Inspire environmental citizenship through an understanding of the natural heritage of north central Texas by providing nature experiences, education and research programs, and conservation and restoration projects.

Vision

The Clear Creek Natural Heritage Center will:

•Promote environmental citizenship

•Provide a place for people to interact and connect with nature

•Be a model of integrated learning for environmental, outdoor and experiential learning

•Provide a leading example of conservation and ecosystem restoration projects

•Be an educational, recreational and cultural resource for all people

The CCNHC serves as a gateway to the approximately 2900 acres comprised of rare bottomland habitat, surprisingly diverse flora and fauna, all surrounding the confluence of Clear Creek and the Elm Fork of the Trinity River.

The first thing I thought of when I arrived was that this is a perfect habitat for the whitetail deer with plenty of cover. Being a cool and overcast day my first thoughts were that if I was going to see the deer I would probably have to walk up on one in its bedding area. The only species I was engaged with was the cardinals. They had quickly let me know that this was their area and I needed to leave. It is amazing how such a bright colored bird has survived. Although the birds are quit entertaining they are distracting me from actually focusing on what other factors make up this area’s ecosystem. I decide that my best course of action was to look for signs of deer activity as well as look at some of the management practices going on in other areas.

Another thing that the wildlife will need in this area is water. The Elm Fork of the Trinity had ample water at this time. As I walked down to the sandy area on the bank I startled a flock of black ducks or they startled me not really sure who was more surprised. There were also a few turtles in the river which lead me to believe that the river was supporting several different species and was perhaps somewhat healthy. I also observed the signs of human neglect and wastefulness of fisherman as beverage cans, fishing tackle and the remains of what appears to be a gar. I did not find any tracks for deer in this area but recent activities from humans probably eliminated them. I return to the upper bank and continue along the trail. I quickly find what I was looking for on several of the game trail leading up the decent down to the water, the footprints of the whitetail deer.

I start by heading to the prairie trail. I notice that this area would support my species. Whitetail deer are social animals and this would be an area where they could do this. After a few minutes of looking I quickly found game trails leading in and out of the area. We then continued into what they call the hardwood forest. This area would provide plenty of cover for a variety of species. There are many species of trees in this area including elm, oaks, and Bois de arc. The Bois de arc were quite large but they also looked like they may be diseased it is something I would like to observe on a future trip. I find these trees fascinating with their gnarled and twisting limbs often with hollows in them perfect for raccoons and other species to nest and hide in. These trees are extremely hard and the older generations of surveyors used stake from this tree as survey markers. Often when we look for remnants of these stakes we still find the splinters after decades. In this area we also found several bird’s next from past residence.

I continued along the trail past the grassland area were there were more game trails and signs of deer. This area again has ample cover and food. Quickly we are in the wetland area. The water levels were extremely low but they still provide habitat for several birds we observed and would provide an additional source of water for the deer.

I finished the trail back to my vehicle and reality. The trail took me back to my childhood and running care free through the woods. It is amazing how sights and sounds can take you back.

The Clear Creek Natural Heritage Center is working hard to hold true to their mission statement. I enjoyed the experience and will definitely do it again. It was quiet and remote as far as the manufactured noise of people. This one did not seem to be as managed as some of the other areas which in my eyes mean they are doing something right.


Lewisville Lake Environmental Learning Area (LLELA)

LLELA, also known as the Lewisville Wildlife Management Area, was created in the early 1990s by a consortium of local, state, and national government agencies, who have obtained a 25 year management lease from the US Army Corps of Engineers. Today, the LLELA consortium is comprised of the University of North Texas, Texas A&M University, the City of Lewisville, and the Lewisville Independent School District.

Mandate
The mandate of the LLELA consortium is to develop the area for: the preservation and restoration of native habitat and biodiversity environmental education, and environmental research.

Management Goals
The principal goals of management at LLELA are to preserve and protect native biodiversity and to restore degraded ecosystems, communities, and native biodiversity while providing compatible educational and scientific use of LLELA lands.

The first thing you notice is the towering dam. I know the reasons why it cannot have trees and shrubs but it would be nice if it did. The next impression was that this one is highly managed and manipulated by humans. You see native flowers but they are in a flower bed nothing really natural about that.

We start down the trails and again with our walking partner, the cardinals. Darting back and forth just ahead of us making sure the other forest dwellers all know we are coming. This time I have my own little noise maker Papa’s Angel, my three year old grandbaby. The first thing he noticed when we started down the trail was the under storage plenty of sticks to pick up. We also thought the signs were perfect right at his level. There was an abundance of tree species; elms, oaks, cottonwoods, pecan, and Bois de arc to name a few. Some were truly magnificent in size. He was extremely excited and I was happy to share the experience with him and my wife.

Just like many spring days, there was an abundance of insects moving around happy for the warm day. The signs of past woodpeckers chasing the insects were apparent on the trees. Spider webs quickly find their way to your face as you continue walking. A few flying insects buzzing around but not to the point where it is annoying it was still a very pleasant walk. An occasional noise in the underbrush was a reoccurring them. I caught a glimpse of a scurrying lizard once probably happy that the insects are out too.

On the trails we observed several areas were an armadillo had been foraging the night before. As we got closer to the river we could hear the sounds of the birds. The river was magnificent and well worth the walk to see it. There were several shore birds feeding in the shallows and an egret. We saw the manufactured nests for a larger bird of prey and a few for bats I believe.

The rest of the trail was watching the butterflies bounce to and fro in front of us as we made our way back to the vehicle. It was a pleasant trip and despite my reservations about hiking with a three year old, we all truly enjoyed it. There is plenty of food and cover for deer and several signs they are there from the game trails to the tracks.

This area is great for educational purposes and I enjoyed the signs and explaining to my grandbaby what we were looking for and what we observed. There is a lot more obvious human effort in this managed landscape. I do not know the history of the place but I would like to learn more about their efforts and what it was before they started.

Quiet of Quakertown Park/Cross Timbers Park

Traci Popejoy, Geography Masters Student, University of North Texas

Quiet of Quakertown Park
On an unseasonably warm Friday in early February, I headed to Quaker Park in the middle of Denton, Texas. This would be my location for observation of nature in an urban environment. I chose Quaker Park for multiple reasons. As a biogeographer working with freshwater mussels, my preferred environment involves flowing freshwater. Sadly, I don’t live close to a stream currently, so the channelized Pecan creek at Quaker Park would be an appropriate substitute. Another reason I chose this area from my observation was from a recent experience involving getting lost trying to switch over my electricity for my new apartment, which in my opinion is a decidedly urban task. So, after a relatively short day in the lab, I headed to Quakertown Park for a lovely moment spent with urbanized nature.
I drove a short while from the university to the park. As I travelled through neighborhoods, I noticed each had a lawn of short grass and at least one tree. Just before I reached my ultimate destination, I passed the northern edge of Quaker Park. As it was around 3:30, it was bursting with children and parents. While I was contemplating later I would notice how they seemed to spill from the playground like ants from a hill. After arrival at the park, I walked across the dainty bridge and sat within the grass under a tree. The park was remarkably quiet, with the faint laughter of children in the distance. You could hear the wind blowing through the park, buffeted by the sparse trees and artificial city buildings. Off in the distance you could hear construction vehicles working. Rarely, you could hear a bird chirp in the trees, but its call was never answered. The grass I sat on was half dead from the winter, but half alive with new shoots reaching for the bright, warm sun. The tree provided me a little shade, but the shade stopped just before it reached the creek. Soon the sun was lulling me into a nap on the grass, but I was determined to actively observe an urban environment.

To shake the sleep from my eyes, I went to my car, directly opposite of the tree. From the parking lot where my car was parked, I walked toward the old tree that had given me shade just a few moments ago. Looking down like a true stream ecologist, I watched as the parking lot abruptly turned into manicured grass. Within seven feet, I was back on concrete as I was walking down a concrete embankment to the ‘creek’. The steep climb of concrete led me to a stream of water barely a half inch tall and a foot wide. After crossing the five yard wide ‘creek bed’, I was walking up the steep concrete embankment again before reaching grass and the nice tree again. One thing that struck me about this transect was the abrupt changes in ground type. You could tell the edges were edged and the grass routinely kept in check. I then ran down the embankment again and watched the water for a while. Upon closer inspection, I could see the slow movement of water downstream. What I had previously thought was mud was in fact more concrete. At this portion of the creek there was no silt or sediment, just patches of windblown leaves and a tiny bit of litter. I looked for bugs within the small stream and just saw a little guy crawling along the bottom. At least I hope he was a bug and not just a little rock. I flipped over a leaf, hoping to find any aquatic insects or larvae, but sadly saw nothing but water bubbles and an empty leaf. Without a gravel or sediment to hang on too, these aquatic insects can be subject to huge sheer forces during food events. This would essentially push all aquatic animal life downstream and out of the channel. Disappointed with the lack of life in the stream, I decided to walk along the dry river bed. While the amount of sunlight changed significantly, life remained invisible to my eyes. As I got further downstream, I actually began to see algae and the beginnings of sediment along what would be equivalent of a ripple. After approximately 50 yards I approached a fork in the stream. The other creek in this fork was an un-channelized and more natural creek. The water flowed over algae covered rocks and insects flew over the water. You could hear the creek ‘babbling’ as water flowed through a ripple. While this river looked more natural, I again didn’t see as many insects as I expected. But in reality, the insects might be in diapause, buried into the stream substrate.

Of all my observations, I think the most striking was how people interacted with this park. In total, I saw about seven people during my forty minutes at Quakertown Park. Most people stayed on the sidewalk and observed the relatively tranquil quiet the park offered. Instead of venturing into the nice, manicured grass, they stayed on the smooth sidewalk, apart from nature. The only person, other than myself, I saw within something that wasn’t strictly human created (though you could argue that the whole park was human generated) was a man eating his lunch by a tree. He was only there for fifteen minutes, sitting by the tree watching the channelized river go by. But, as I was driving away a corgi and its owner entered the park. From these observations I get the feeling that many people don’t want to be innately involved in nature. They want the picturesque scenery, but not the messiness of growing grass, pebbled creeks, and muddy, sloping banks. While I was experiencing this urban landscape, I saw the ghost of what nature truly is in my mind.

Observational Blog #2: Cross Timbers Park

For my observation of managed nature, I chose to visit the Cross Timbers Park in south Denton. This park covers 70.2 acres across multiple mini-parks and trails on the Hickory Creek watershed. This area is part of a stormwater quality project for the city, meaning it attempts to reduce storm water flood pulses in the river and promote infiltration into the ground water table. Cross Timbers Park is site 678 of the 319 grant attempting to preserve Hickory Creek from further enrichment from urbanization (Site Selection Overview). This park was originally started when Denton citizens petitioned for a park and nature study center in South Denton They were awarded a donation from the Parks Foundation and a grant from the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department. “The Cross Timbers Park now preserves a section of the Cross Timbers Forest, part of a historic stand of trees that once extended from southern Oklahoma through North Texas” (Parks Foundation). So the Cross Timbers Park is intended to provide multiple ecosystem services including recreational, educational, as well as flood management.

I arrived at Cross Timbers Park after getting lost driving through a neighborhood on the south side of

Denton. A nice playground and concrete path greeted me as I moved from my car towards the park. Before entering the park, a large sign stating one of the purposes of this park as a “Stormwater Quality Project” area looked friendly and informative. Farther from the road, a field of short grass greeted me, with a small area for benches that had recycling and trashcans. By the picnic benches, small groups of tall trees indicated the beginning of the storm drainage system. From these tall trees, the hidden street drainage ditch led into a shallow depression, which still held water from recent rains. The area was planted with small trees, many of which had soaker hoses wrapped around their bases. This shallow depression, which led towards the stream, was interspersed with rock areas intended to slow lateral flows of storm waters. I eventually followed the depression until I reached a dirt path leading into the riparian forest associated with the stream. As I entered the small grove, I heard the wind sweeping through the tree tops and birds singing to each other. I followed the small dirt path until I reached a drop-off that looked into a small stream. There I saw a tire swing hanging from a tree on the other bank of the stream. Finding a path down to the stream bed, I followed the stream for ten feet before finding a small dirt ledge to sit on. There I could hear the brook talking, insects buzzing around, and multiple song birds singing. I reached into the river and felt the cool water flow quickly over my hand. The stream substrate was mainly sand, but small groupings of pebbles created leaf dams perfect for stream insects. Algae covered many of the rocks, and bugs seemed to be prolific in this small stream. As I was sitting I noticed animal tracks within the sediment by

the stream. It seems raccoons and probably a coyote have been by this stream lately. I also noticed shoe prints as well, indicating I wasn’t the only adventurous human. While I explored the area a little, I found a bike submerged and abandoned in the stream. It was already becoming habitat for stream fauna. I also found Corbicula shells, though no live mussels. This particular stream was probably too small and intermittent for native freshwater mussels to survive, but I’m certain freshwater mussels reside within larger portions of Hickory Creek. After exploring, I trekked out of the stream up an avalanche of rock, obviously a part of the Stormwater Quality Project. As I reached the top of the stream bank, it was clear this was the final destination of the meandering depression from the street. As I walked around the rest of the park, I found another dirt path that led through the forest, which eventually led me to trespassing (maybe?). I then followed the concrete path through the remainder of the open grass field to reach the playground and my car again.

Comparing this experience to my urban nature experience, it was refreshingly different. Though it was still evident that I was within a city, nature was much less confined. People were enjoying the playground and using the concrete path for power walking. What inspired me the most though was the family with little kids headed down the dirt path to the stream as I was leaving. Though this park wasn’t completely unaltered by people, it was pleasant to see the young toddlers walking through the riparian forest, eyes up with wonder at the birds. While it was obvious this isn’t what many people would think is pristine nature, it was still better than the channelized Pecan Creek. I would worry about the immense amount of fertilizer and oil from the nearby neighborhood flows into the river, but as a storm water quality control area, this park’s goal is to eliminate those harmful toxins before they reach the river. Overall, I think the Cross Timbers Park provides a great recreational and environmental service (in regards to the river) to the Denton community. Cross Timbers Park provides these services at a small scale, but I hope to visit a larger version of a managed ecosystem before the end of the semester: The Green Belt on 380.

References:
City of Denton. (2013). Parks Foundation Projects and Programs. Retrieved from http://www.cityofdenton.com/departments-services/departments-g-p/parks-recreation/parks-foundation/projects-and-programs

City of Denton. (2011). 319 Grant for the Lake Lewisville Watershed. Retrieved from http://www.cityofdenton.org/departments-services/departments-q-z/water-utilities/watershed-protection-program/319-grant-for-the-lake-lewisville-watershed

City of Denton. (2010). Site Selection Overview. Retreived from http://www.cityofdenton.org/home/showdocument?id=8367

Backyard Musings/A Moment of Zen at LBJ

Mike Watkins - Geography major, University of North Texas                

Backyard Musings

The sun is warm. I and my Basset-Beagle mix, Daisy, soak it up. It’s like being on vacation after the cold days of winter. We’re wreathed by a privacy fence that provides the illusion of isolation. There are a few spots at the bottom of the fence that rabbits frequent. There’s always a rabbit in the yard before the sun comes up and after the sun sets. Daisy and her sister, a German shepherd mix named Claire, are always eager to clear them out of the yard. Everyone loves the chase, including the rabbits, but my dogs would never know what to do with a rabbit if they caught one. I’ve seen them run under Claire’s legs as she gives half-hearted chase. There have been many rabbit holes in the yard over the years but not this year.

There is a patio with curved corners that takes up about half of the yard but it doesn’t detract from the natural feeling. There is a large Silverado sage at one end. It’s normally weighed down with bright purple blooms that contrast beautifully with the grey-green leaves. It’s looking very sparse right now. The winter has been hard on everything. The dead grass is depressing. A large planter next to the fence normally has purple flowers that attract the occasional humming bird but now holds long brown, crispy leaves that hang over the side. A few planters litter the patio. I try to grow vegetables in containers during the growing months but now they’re full of clover. And I wonder why there are so many rabbits.

There are two large hawthorns in the backyard, one in each corner, which provide shelter for various kinds of birds. They squeak and scratch against the pine board fence. There are sparrows that make nests in them but most of the time we have mockingbirds. They really like the red berries. The mockingbirds will try to stand on tiny, extremely flexible branches, flapping their wings to keep their balance but falling all over the place like drunken sailors. Eventually they’ll grasp one of the berries in their beak and swallow it whole. I had a bird feeder next to one of the hawthorns but my dogs kept the birds away. I moved the feeder to the front yard and filled it with oily black sunflower seeds. Since then, I’ve seen sparrows, dark-eyed juncos, cedar waxwings, and mourning doves. Apparently, moving the feeder to the front was a big hit.

                                     

There are two cell towers and a radio tower in the field behind my backyard. When the weather’s warm like it is today, a cacophony of bird songs comes from the towers that sound like the parakeet enclosure at the Fort Worth Zoo. It doesn’t bother me since I like birds. My favorite residents in the towers are the red-tail hawks and the occasional barred owl. I see hawks on a pretty regular basis. They perch on the tower’s support wires and keep our rabbit and snake populations in check. The owls normally appear mid-fall. We’ll occasionally see one but we usually just hear them calling. One day last week was a special surprise. A northern harrier landed on the fence. I’d never seen one here before.

We’ve lived in this house for about ten years. We were the very first house built and we were the first residents in the whole neighborhood. Our friends thought we lived in the sticks. In the past, we have run into coyotes while walking our girls. We’ve come close to hitting bobcats with the car. Now, we occasionally hear coyotes but not nearly as often. We never see bobcats anymore. Thank goodness for the birds and rabbits. I always thought I’d need to visit some isolated wilderness to experience “real wildlife”. Thoughts of Colorado or Alaska always came to mind. I never noticed the diversity right around my own house. I think it’s because we always want to be somewhere else. We’re never live in the present and as a result, we miss it. If I’ve learned anything from sitting in my backyard, I’ve learned to be quiet and listen. If you’re a person who needs to be entertained, just watch rabbits play in your yard or watch a couple of birds fight over a grasshopper. Your experience observing animals should be more extensive than watching cats on YouTube. Now, where’d I put my iPhone…

A Moment of Zen at LBJ Grasslands

I forgot how good the woods smell. Hints of juniper and the earthiness of a damp morning fill my nostrils as I step onto LBJ National Grasslands. If you like birds this place is heaven. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many cardinals in one place. These male and female Northern Cardinals were still chasing each other when I decided to move to a different spot. There were so many songs from other bird songs that I couldn’t make sense of them. I’m a beginning birder anyway so it’s not surprising that I can’t recognize very many songs.

It seems like I see tons of turkey vultures no matter when I’m outside. I saw a lot this time too but there were more on the ground or perched in trees than I usually see. I know most people dismiss them or don’t see them at all but there’s something special about seeing a bird that big in the wild. I saw two sitting in a tree then got really lucky because one decided to extend his head as I snapped the picture.

This particular trailhead was established by a local equestrian group. Naturally, there are lots of horse tracks. There are also coyote and deer tracks. Coyote tracks can typically be distinguished from dog tracks because the two middle toes are close together and the claws are prominent in the track.

As I walked through the tall grass, I found myself focusing on too many things at once. Between the birds and the tracks, I totally missed a huge cotton-tailed rabbit spring out of the brush. I almost wet my pants. I hunted rabbits as a kid and have kicked more out of the brush than I could ever count but I never got used to the surprise. I’m pretty sure I scared him as much as he scared me.

There are lots of game trails here. They looked like they’re used by everything. One particular trail led to what looked like a bedding area. It hadn’t been used recently but you could tell it was still occasionally used, most likely by deer. The deer tracks I found looked to be a few days old but there were a lot of them and they were made by deer of all sizes.

This area is a multi-use area. It’s typical of many areas. There are parts of the area that look like they’re used for cattle grazing. There is a full water tank next to the windmill. Seeing how the equestrians, the cattle, coyotes, and deer all share the same space made this wide-open area seem much smaller. It almost feels claustrophobic. There are fences here and the road entrance to the trailhead is equipped with cattle guard. Still, these attempts at animal control seem to be in vain. Any attempt to control animal behavior is pointless. It would be cheaper in the long run if we learned how to live with animals instead of trying to dominate them. It’s the fundamental flaw with most conservation efforts. If we are going to have any success in wildlife management and conservation, it’s absolutely vital that human beings are factored into management plans as part of the overall ecosystem. In the meantime, I’ll be bird watching.

GEOG 3420 Experiences in Urban/Managed Landscapes

In GEOG 3420, students researched species and ecosystems in Texas that are currently being managed. As part of the assignment, they were required to experience and observe both an urban "backyard" ecosystem and a managed “native” ecosystem in the region.  The goal was to look at different forms of "nature" that are in and around the DFW Metroplex, and to understand how they differ and what the challenges are in management and conservation.

As It Is: Pond Visits, Solitude, and Ecological Understanding

William James - Anthropology Major, University of NorthTexas

My alarm never goes off. I always wake 10 to15 minutes before, silently glide out of bed while my wife snores (yes....she does), and grab the first shirt and jeans that are hanging in the closet because I don't want to turn the lights on and wake her. She says people think I have only one shirt and pair of pants, I tell her she needs to stop sticking them at the front after she does the laundry. I go to the kitchen, put my pot of coffee on, and pet the pups. Buddy is half Lab and half ….something; Chester is a Border Terrier (12 pounds soaking wet).  We found both of them at the pound on different occasions. Buddy was a sweet pup with awkwardly huge feet. Chester was very ugly with a twisted, matted, long coarse overcoat. As he kept licking my wife's face, we were told he was going to be put down soon. She said she would clean him up and he would be her lap dog. So now, four years, later “I” have two dogs.

Mandala, what an apt description of my little circle. I've sat here repeatedly almost every morning over the last two years and contemplated everything from marriage, to my children, to unemployment. My pups have been my companions for most of these walks. I would only leave them behind due to inclement weather, of the kind I fear Frik and Frak couldn't handle, or because I had found something interesting that I wanted to take a look at without being disturbed. In the twilight hours before you hear the Rooster crow, and the spying of the first of the soccer moms in spandex jogging with their iPods and headphones about 300 yards away on the concrete sidewalks, this place is my Fortress Of Solitude (F.O.S, I hate to say mandala, it's been taken). All around the neighborhood sidewalks, there is graffiti, the lack of it on the concrete embankment next to the pond here puzzled me, until I found out there is no cell phone reception, hence, no teenagers venture out this far into the wilderness, they would die in several minutes from lack of social networking. In the last couple of months I've gained a new appreciation for my F.O.S. In August I had my cataracts removed. My wife insisted that I have the operation, after it became apparent I couldn't drive at night anymore. I never realized how blind I had really been for the last several years.

 

October 2, 2013 - I was sitting at the edge of the pond throwing sticks and rocks into the water for Buddy to chase (he loves to swim), when I noticed an odd shell sticking out of the mud at my feet. It wasn't at all like the typical freshwater bivalves you usually see in cow ponds. I brought the shell home and after several hours of research, determined that it was a “Devil's Toenail,” Exogyra ponderosa. I sat there marveling at it as I flipped it over and performed a detailed inspection. Here were the remains of a species that dates to100 million years ago. While it slid across the Cretaceous sea bed, going about its plodding cycle of filtering the salty water for phytoplankton, above it there were Plesiosaurs stalking small sharks. The oysters were fed upon by a huge 30 foot shark with thousands of molars, Ptychodus (it's amazing the things that you do remember from when you're twelve). Perhaps this explains the large amount of what I now recognize as shell fragments scattered across the local fields? It boggles the mind to think that we are now living in an area, which 100 million years ago was a warm shallow sea that separated Western North America from the Northeastern seaboard, tens of millions of years before our first rodent-like ancestors were stealing eggs from dinosaur nests.
 

Later that evening I made my way back to the pond.  During those thirty minutes, I paid close attention to the mudshell I was walking on. By the time I reach the water's edge I had seven different types of bivalves and ammonites in my pockets. After closer inspection, the rock where I frequently stop to scrape the mud off of my boots appears to be a huge mollusk. As I stood there examining my finds I noticed the many opened and crushed mussels on the shore. The water levels have dropped by a huge amount this year in all the local ponds by at least four feet, even though it was much hotter last summer?  The exposed little mussels were ravaged by the cranes. I've always seen mussels in ponds, but I've never stopped to consider, how did they get there?

There is no overspill or flooding from a lake or river in this area, and the mussels were not put there to filter the water to encourage growth. These ponds were dug for aesthetics, for a never developed area of the subdivision. The area around the pond is now very overgrown. The pond was much larger at one time; due to the water level dropping it is now two ponds, the northern one being almost completely dry.  Last year I caught a four pound bass in the northern half, but just like the mussels, I never stopped to ask myself how the fish got there. I was curious enough at one time to ask the developers if the ponds were stocked and was bluntly told no, and that if there were fish in them, I was forbidden to try and catch them because it might disturb the tame ducks, what jerks! Luckily for me the housing implosion forced development to cease in the area where my pond sits.

I sat there tossing shells into the water while studying my surroundings. Could it be that very strong winds had blown the larvae here? I've read stories where it has rained fish, so perhaps somehow the larvae were carried up by a storm and dropped back down, miles away. While I was sitting there a crane landed on the other side of the pond. I froze; it was a Sandhill, a “Ribeye in the sky,” the most delicious animal on the face of the planet! I immediately began making plans to come back during the season in November with my pellet rifle, as it would make the least noise and not alarm any nearby soccer moms. However, soon I started to lose my enthusiasm as I watched the bird slowly make its way along the other bank. When I was younger, I was a very avid hunter, anything I ever killed, I ate. It was a lesson taught to me by my daddy, who made me eat a Mockingbird that I had shot for no reason. Mockingbirds are in no danger of becoming extinct because tastiness. Now days I'm more content to shoot animals with a camera, plus due to the scarcity of Sandhills in this area, this bird deserves its own F.O.S.

As the sun went down behind me I began to reminisce about my many duck hunts, and then it struck me, birds! Although the weather may have deposited larvae and fish eggs in the pond, the most obvious depositor would be birds - this is my hypothesis! I remembered that on many occasions when I was cleaning ducks, their feet and legs would be sticky from paddling through pods of fish eggs. The diver species were coated with them sometimes. Of course ducks probably don't peck at mussels and eat them (although they might?), but cranes definitely do. The cranes and egrets plod along the mud of the shore cracking the shells with their beaks. The mud that clings to their legs is carrying the mussel larvae, which gets deposited at every water hole they come to. The cranes are unknowingly providing for their own future food supply, seeding every nook and cranny of tributaries, lakes, ponds, and rivers for hundreds of miles. Now that the mussels are established in the pond, they are nature's underwater vacuum cleaners, as they filter the water for nutrients. The filtered water is now prime habitat for fingerling, which are eaten by the ducks. The ducks were in turn eaten by coyotes (and me). As I watched with the sun slowly setting behind me, I was jolted by the memory of an incident which happened earlier during the year. Feeling a bit uneasy, I headed home.

October 4, 2013 - It's been raining hard the last two mornings, however this morning there wasn't even a wind.  I filled my travel mug and had the pups follow me to the pond. Earlier during the year, we were walking to the pond when Buddy's hackles raised. Little Chester was a bit ahead and oblivious to the world as he sniffed every rock. I peered into the scrub Oaks which are thick on the northern side of the path, and could see movement in the morning light. It was coyotes, however they weren't interested in Buddy or me, they were trailing Chester.  Two of them broke into the field about twenty yards from Chester. I ran and screamed at them, they merely glanced at me and kept their eyes on Chester, they didn't break and run until I was almost all the way upon them. I looked back for Buddy, he was head down  and  making a deep chest growl as he stared down a big male also about twenty yards away. When I started back to Buddy with Chester at my feet, the male broke for the trees.

This was a  trend that I've noticed over the past two years. The coyotes  were staying out later in the daylight hours, and they were becoming bolder. On another occasion the year before, I was walking up to the pond, without the dogs, and saw a  raft of ducks in the middle. I heard the type of whining and panting that dogs do when they want something, such as waiting for you to throw a stick. I thought it must have been a dog. When I came to a spot in the trail where I could see the southeastern bank of the bank, I saw a small frustrated coyote pawing at the water, yelping at the ducks floating in the middle. He (or she) saw me, stopped for a second sniffed the air, and went back to its yelping. I sat down and watched for thirty minutes as the wild canine did this. It finally lost interest and left for the tree line. Not once did my presence disturb it. I almost wanted to go pet it.

On this particular morning the dogs and I were maybe ten yards from where we normally start down the bank, when two coyotes appeared at the top. One was a small female; I'm guessing that the other was a male, because the female was pregnant, in October?  They slowly ambled back to the trees, in no hurry, and not looking back. Strangely enough Buddy and Chester just sat there looking at them until they disappeared. We made our way to the sitting spot and I discovered a dead Sandhill that had been ripped to pieces. There have always been coyote tracks around the pond, but this was the first time I had ever found a kill.

I am not an authority on coyotes by any means, however I have seen plenty of pregnant ones, and it was always in the early summer. When I researched mating seasons, I found that the season typically runs from January until March. The articles did point out that because of the coyote’s range explosion, cross breeding with domestic dogs was becoming much more common as the mating seasons became confused. Is this why I have been seeing them more during the day, and does it explain why they were not intimidated by me? One article suggested that as much as 75% of cross bred dogs (mutts) in North East Texas contained up to 10% coyote DNA. I am more comforted by the thought of individual, or even packs, of somewhat timid coyotes being around, than I am about the possibility of a cross breed with the aggression of a Pit-bull and absolutely no fear of humans.

But could it be something more? I doubt that these animals are that hybridized? I believe we are simply running out of room.  Coyotes are a very adaptive species and what we are seeing is not unusual behavior, but a new behavior as it adapts  to an increasingly urban environment. And what about global warming? Is the change in temperature also changing the behavior of the coyotes? I read that Texas and Oklahoma have extended mating seasons because of the warm weather. As the weather warms and we have water supplies being concentrated in urban areas, it seems natural (at least in my mind) that this crepuscular behavior should increase as they hunt the animals at night that are forced to use communal water supplies. Put another way, if we see decreasing water supply locations, and we have forced communal sharing between predators and prey, then I would think that all the animals drinking from that location at roughly the same time, is highly improbable.  Someone is going to have to change their schedule. Since coyotes are far less skittish than say, raccoons or ducks, it would seem to me that the coyotes would remain nocturnal hunters, and daybreak drinkers.  However, as I said, I'm not an authority, but I believe that my little secluded pond might be a good place to observe coyote daylight activity, if I can get there early enough and find a better position to view it from downwind. I suppose instead of calling it my pond, I should refer to it as the coyote's pond.

October 7, 2013 - I sprained my ankle a couple of days ago digging fence posts, so I was really itching to get out of the house, the pups wouldn't be with me this morning, it looked like rain. I've finally learned my lesson about taking them out when it's wet in the fields, for some reason it drives Chester to go roll in the newly moistened cow manure. If I don't catch him in time, when we get home, he'll jump up on the furniture and possibly my bed, it has happened before.  Since I was alone that day and not having to worry about the dogs, I was able to take another route, which brought me to the top of a hill. I took out my binoculars and spied in the direction of the pond just when the sun was breaking, amazing, several yards from the north end there was a pig rooting, and I believe I could make out several piglets.

I've often found tracks around the pond, but this was the first time I had actually seen one of the pigs that made them, in the daylight. I have seen them at night with goggles.  I believe I could see coyotes in the brush, but I'm not sure. There were plenty of ducks and egrets also, my own little Serengeti. By the time I reached the west bank the pig had retreated, but her tracks were all around my sitting spot. As I mentioned before, when I was younger, I hunted a lot, however when it comes to accurately identifying tracks, I am a moron, but it appears deer had also used this spot sometimes during the night, as did raccoons. It stands to reason, there aren't that many clear areas around the pond.  Off to one side of the trail leading down to the water, I found scat. Using a stick to dissect it, I found small bones, parts of grasshoppers, and yellow seeds which I couldn't identify. It didn't look like normal coyote droppings, so I wonder if the bobcat is back? In any case, whether it was bobcat or coyote, it's easy to see how this omnivore could fill almost any niche that opens in an ever changing environment.

On several occasions over the last two years I've seen the cat or cats at a distance, once actually walking on the road in our subdivision at night. I find no strange coincidence that the neighborhood started experiencing a rash of missing dogs and cats out of people’s back yards, around the same time I first spotted Lynx rufus. Up went the posters of the missing pets, my neighbor said she believed that people were stealing them, since almost all of the missing dogs were small lap-dogs. I've never felt the need to alarm her to the fact that we have predators coming into our yards. I have found several dogs in many pieces when making my way to the pond in the mornings, and one house cat. It may seem strange but the thought of bobcats back in their original ranges despite the intrusion of humans, excites me. I've spent many mornings trying to get a picture, but it's like Sasquatch, every time you see one, you don't have a camera handy! But once again, why am I seeing animals that have always been primarily active at night?

October 9, 2013 - I find the pigs equally intriguing. No matter how many feral pigs you kill, when you blink your eyes, there are ten more. An omnivorous animal with no breeding season and large litters that experiences almost no natural predation could be a dangerous thing to an environment it's not native to. My brother was floored by the number of swine in Texas herds, I'm wondering why there aren't even more. Several years ago I overheard a rancher complaining about the damage that the pigs were doing to his property. I offered to help by hunting several of them, he said sure, take as many as you want and I'll only charge you $50.00 apiece. I was astounded, this man actually thought that he could recoup or even make more money by charging people to hunt them. So exactly, what was he complaining about?  I wonder if he ever sat down and did a real estimation of the monetary damage the pigs were doing to his ranch, not to mention his neighbors farms? In 2012 feral pigs caused over $65,000,000.00 worth of damage to Texas. The population stood at just under an estimated 3 million last year, with a 20% yearly growth rate.

Although it may sound like I'm anti-pig, I actually have a healthy respect for them. I have a tree hugging neighbor, who wanted me to sign her anti-fracking petition (petitions that I have signed... just not hers)  She drives a Hummer H2 that gets 10 miles to the gallon, which has never seen the mud. I long for the day she steps out the door in the morning and drops her latte upon discovering her immaculate pesticide/chemical saturated lawn, has been rooted by pigs overnight. Yep, it would make me happy to see that as I drive by her in my little, beat up,1992 Civic that gets 42 mpg (yes, I know I'm being smug for the wrong reason.)

This morning I left the pups at home again and was nearly at the pond before the sun was up. I had hoped to catch some pigs rooting. The field and the pond turned up empty of everything, not even a bird or rabbit today. I sat down with my coffee and started looking around when I noticed that the batch of  thistle located behind me, had a large portion of it missing, of course maybe it was always like that and I had just never noticed? I went up to the field where the pigs had been, but could not find any droppings. I was curious as to whether or not the pigs had been eating the thistle.

I've seen pigs eat poison ivy, so, I didn't find it that far-fetched that they might eat thistle. There were lots of holes, but no dung. I went back to my spot to sip coffee and throw rocks. Thistles, in this case Cirsium texanam; I've never really given them much thought. To me they were nothing more than a nuisance that I had to untangle from Chester's fall coat (along with cockleburs).  Then it dawned on me, could that be why they are prickly? They stick to the fur of animals and in this way distribute themselves over the landscape? I do know that if they are entirely dispersed by air, I would see them in my yard, I have every other wild plant and weed in the neighborhood, why not Cirsium texanam?

Texas Thistle may also have found a friend in an invasive species, the pig. Sometimes I tend to romanticize observations I make. When I was growing up on the Amite river, every board I found below the water stuck in the mud, just had to have come from Jean Lafitte's pirate ship, which was believed to have sunk somewhere around Port Vincent. I do the same thing when I see a wild pig, I imagine that they are descendants of the boars release by the Spanish Conquistadors in the 1500s, and they may well be. However I do keep myself in check by remembering that Europeans unleashed almost complete devastation upon Native Americans by exposing them to influenza, and small pox, and the chief agents of delivery were their mobile food stores, the pigs they brought with them. The pigs came into contact with other animals (deer, turkey, etc.) and passed the diseases on to Native Americans. Even the ground where they fed was contaminated.

Will we see the thistle start to change, because it's such an abundant plant that pigs like? Or are the pigs so indiscriminate in their eating habits that they don't take the time to select a plant based on color or taste?  I've also seen an abundance of cockleburs where the pigs have been rooting. I've been told that there's not one wild or domestic animal that's immune to its toxic effects, even blinding cattle. Could cockleburs eventually develop into an edible plant for the pigs? I wonder if pigs could become instinctively aware, perhaps by taste or smell, of the level of toxicity in a patch of cockleburs in a certain location, and choose to feed there. They wouldn't eat the plant intentionally in these locations, but sense that if they were to accidentally ingest the cockleburs, they would survive. The less potent plant is then spread to other locations, through feces or sticking to the bristles, with a lessening of the poisonous effects in each generation. Could it become a viable food source, if it were spread in such a manner?  Oh well, just wondering.

October 12, 2013 - This morning I was a little late getting out the door.  It's Saturday and I celebrated a big eBay sale the night before. I really needed my coffee this morning. Made it to the top of the trail leading down to the water, I stopped cold in my tracks, there was someone at my and the coyotes pond! I didn't want to seem like a snob because I know that he heard me walking up, so I made my way down to the water.  He seemed like a nice enough 12 year old kid, but as my wife has pointed out, “Will, sometimes you just don't like people!”  It's true. I'm not misanthropic, I don't actually dislike people, but here lately, I would rather spend most of my time, not around them.  Trips to the pond are my times to think.

I made a half-hearted introduction as he cast his line out. Fishing with spinners in this pond is useless, I prayed he wouldn't catch anything. I asked if he had seen any coyotes, he gave me one of those “get real old man” looks and said, “Nah, I doubt there are any around here anyway.” I then explained to him that the tracks all over the bank did in fact belong to coyotes and possibly bobcats. He gave me another uncertain look and continued to walk his line down the bank (even though there was no current?) I told him to be careful because the pond had been infested with Water Moccasins, which was not really a lie, I'm sure at one time or another it had been infested with Cottonmouths, I just hadn't seen any. 

I asked him if he was going to fish this particular pond all day, and mentioned how chances of catching something were much better in the maintained ponds (the ones I was told were not allowed to be fished), which were very far from this pond.  He said he was waiting for his buddy to call and they were going to Six Flags later. I told him he probably wasn't getting any bars out here (I think it has something to do with a nearby radio tower?). He checked his iPhone, and sure enough, two weak fluctuating bars. He packed his gear, said “take it easy” (not a single “Sir” included) and walked up the trail. A few seconds later I heard a dirt bike start. I knew he wouldn't have walked this far. Thank goodness for terrible reception.

The cool weather had finally done it, it had actually encouraged a teenager to get outside and do something moderately physical. I sat and sipped my coffee as I contemplated the fact that the integrity of the F.O.S had been compromised. It wasn't perfect but it had been mine. My boots were caked with at least three inches of smelly black mud with hundreds of pieces of shell clinging to it. Why smelly black mud? Why not the brick hard clay of the ridge a little more to the west (looks like the cliffs of Dover)? I walked to the top of the trail and performed a 360 scrutinization of the area. 

I don't know how I ever missed it before, but my pond is near the low point of what appears to be a huge bowl formed by low hills and ridges (well, huge to a boy from southern Louisiana). The Black thick mud shell would lead my untrained mind to think that perhaps at one time, this may have been a small lake, or perhaps a tributary? All along the banks of the pond there are wildflowers, it amazes me how much the area had changed after one good rain. Purple lilacs, Vitex agnus-castus, circle the pond willows on the pasture side, it really is pretty. I wonder how many ancient oysters that once covered this area, are responsible for the rich soil. I believe there are high levels of calcium in the shells. But how long would it take for it to be depleted? I know that my tomatoes grow like wildfire here, and I've not had to add any calcium to prevent bottom browning.

Understanding - Nancy Turner and Fikret Berkes (2006) use the term ecological understanding to refer to a set of attributes embodied within traditional ecological knowledge systems. The first of these attributes involves an incremental learning of environmental knowledge through detailed observation. In my observations of the pond and the local area, I can only speculate due to being a complete novice, on the role each species (plant and animal) plays in maintaining or even modifying local natural resources.       As an example, I knew that pigs were an invasive species, however through observation and prolonged deduction, I was able to able to build a picture, not only of the destruction caused by their feeding, but also the role they may play in spreading cockleburs, another invasive species. Pigs feeding in the same pastures as cattle, spread this poisonous plant, which might be ingested by domestic grazers. The pigs have only one other predator in this region besides humans, which is the coyote.

In my understanding, large numbers of piglets would probably mean large numbers of coyotes. This leads to the next attribute, the development of a belief system which averts serious resource depletion and encourages conservation. The local resource in the instance of the pigs would be grazing land. The ecological understanding is that the pigs do not need to be controlled, they need to be eradicated. They are not part of the natural balance of the area, they serve no purpose. They encourage growth of coyote populations and possibly distribute invasive plants. Pigs that establish a population in proximity to urban areas, will in all probability, also have coyotes establish populations in the same area.

When the developers dug the pond I doubt they gave much thought to what would happen should they abandon it. Now we have an over grown area with a pond that is a water source a stone throw away from a heavy traveled recreational area adjacent to the subdivision.  This pond lures ducks, cranes, raccoons, deer and pigs, which in turn lures coyotes and bobcats. So a question comes to mind, if the residents start to complain about animals intruding on their property, or brushes with them as they jog or picnic, who is responsible for the wildlife management? Is it the county's responsibility or should it be the developers who caused the problem in the first place? Would anyone take the time to understand how the problem developed, so that it could be avoided in the future? If there wasn't extended observation, would anyone really know who was responsible?

Understanding the environment could lead to laws that would prevent ranchers charging people to kill an invasive species. Do the ranchers, or anyone for that matter, reserve the right to harbor animals or plants on their property, which may cause physical or economic damage to their neighbors, because they'd rather make a greenback rather than help? Understanding each link in the chain through detailed observation, is the only way to better understand the future possible impact of events that happen today, such as a pond being dug and abandoned. The passing of any new laws based on these observations demonstrates another attribute of ecological understanding as defined by Turner and Berkes, the development of rules by members of a society to deal with their environment and resources.

Along with this understanding there has to be a way to preserve and communicate it, which is the last of Turner and Berkes's attributes assigned to ecological understanding. Without this communication, the observations become useless. Do I actually believe any of my observations will be communicated to my neighbors?  No, it would take someone far more knowledgeable than I am to make any type of impact. I realize that my observations of the area were silly and amateurish, however observation of the pond has given me insight to the importance of a traditional understanding of the local environment by the folks who live there, and the preservation and communication of that understanding. 

Reference - Turner, Nancy J. and Fikret Berkes. 2006. Coming to Understanding: Developing Conservation through Incremental Learning in the Pacific Northwest. Human Ecology 34:495-513.