by Karen Telleen-Lawton, Noozhawk Columnist (read the original in Noozhawk by clicking here)
Walking on the beach the other day, I was lulled into a reverie by the sound of the crashing waves. A flock of shorebirds feeding at the edge of the surf startled me back to the present. A dozen or so willets flew off and landed 20 feet ahead — just beyond bird footprints that, amazingly, had been padded into the sand in a huge “W” shape. I took a photo for proof.
So maybe that was one of those random coincidences, but it got me to thinking about wilderness, wild things and their fight in the face of climate change.
Elizabeth Kolbert writes in the latest Audubon Magazine, “As a result [increased global temperatures since the 1970s], coastal storms have become increasingly destructive, and millions of acres of forest in the American West have been killed off by warming-related pest infestations.” And that’s just for our area.
Climate carnage wasn’t on the minds of the creators of the Wilderness Act. The act turned 50 years old in September; Albuquerque, N.M., will host a National Wilderness Conference this month. One of its most important provisions allows citizens to propose more. Nationwide since 1964, 100 million more acres have been set aside since the original 9 million.
Wilderness does much more than keep parcels of land in their natural state, reminding us of the patriotic power of conservation. It saves money.
Ecological economists J.B. Loomis and Robert Richardson estimate that wilderness areas provide air and water filtering, carbon storage and climate regulation services worth more than $3 billion annually just in the lower 48, according to Audubon. Our visits to wilderness preserves support some 24,000 jobs and $650 million in annual consumer spending for outdoor recreation.
Willets stand just beyond their footprints that, amazingly, had been padded into the sand in a huge “W” shape. (Karen Telleen-Lawton / Noozhawk photo)
Studying wilderness systems, such as at UCSB Marine Science Institute, provides an invaluable set of base lines for showing us what healthy, natural systems look like. Wild spaces become our teachers in restoring ecosystems damaged by pollution. We also gain a fundamental understanding of how to keep systems intact in the face of climate change.
Santa Barbarans have their own wilderness areas for which to be grateful. The San Rafael Wilderness is our closest official wilderness area, within the Los Padres National Forest in the mountains of north central Santa Barbara County. Dating from 1968, it was the first wilderness area to be created from a previously designated Primitive Area following the passage of the 1964 Wilderness Act. The condor is a primary beneficiary of the San Raphael.
Only nine bird species have gone extinct in continental North America in modern times. However, we’re now seeing 315 species of these birds at risk by the end of this century. Audobon notes 15 of the most climate-endangered birds include several of our local ones: Allen’s hummingbird, bald eagle, brown pelican, golden eagle, northern shoveler, common loon, burrowing owl, and osprey.
Fortunately, willets aren’t endangered, but if they can spell they are nothing short of amazing. I sent off my photo to Cherie Topper, the new executive director at the Santa Barbara Audubon. Topper quickly returned my email. She never has seen such clever birds, either. She responded with a question apropos to birds and climate change alike, “Where willet end?”
Karen Telleen-Lawton, Noozhawk Columnist
Karen Telleen-Lawton is an eco-writer, sharing information and insights about economics and ecology, finances and the environment. Having recently retired from financial planning and advising, she spends more time exploring the outdoors — and reading and writing about it. The opinions expressed are her own.