Yesterday, my BIOL 345-Limnology class made a trip to the South Skunk River north of Pella. We viewed the floodplain and talked about how humans respond to river dynamics, saw an oxbow lake, and took measurements of the river channel dimensions and current (velocity of the water) to later calculate disharge.
But the most fun was revisiting a soil horizon marker placed by the BIOL 345 class in 2017. It was surprisingly easy to relocate—of course, that was my intention, but it is easy for me to get lost in the woods! But there it was, in all its sparkly glory. We were naturally excited.
We measured a layer of soil 43.65 mm (1.72 inches) thick above our “horizon” (layer of glitter). Some of that deposition may be from natural processes of soil-building in a forest, but published rates of soil-building are much, much less (probably a fraction of a mm/yr in the temperate zone). So presumably much of the materials above the glitter were laid down by deposits carried in the river—muddy, silty floodwater sat above the glitter and as the water receded, left the materials behind.
We adjusted the caliper after this photo was taken—we settled on 43.65mm
It’s exciting, and also alarming. Iowans brag about having some the best soil in the world, and that might be true…but it is literally washing away, eroding off our fields and carried downstream. Hopefully we’ll hear the call, and better care for our precious topsoil.
The Court’s opinion sides with the Sacketts, asserting that the EPA was wrong to prohibit the couple from filling a wetland on their property. In essence, their wetland was “isolated” spatially from any waterway regulated by the Clean Water Act, and so it was illegal for the EPA to regulate activities affecting that wetland.
And just like that…legal protection for any wetland lacking a meaningful connection (“Significant nexus”) to a lake, permanent stream, or the ocean—is gone.
BUT…it’s more far-reaching than that. Because the Court’s majority opinion demands that to be protected, a wetland must have a continuous surface connecting to a lake/stream/ocean, making it impossible to see it as separate from that waterbody.
The ruling includes these thoughts, quoted verbatim:
…wetlands must qualify as “waters of the United States” in their own right, i.e., be indistinguishably part of a body of water that itself constitutes “waters” under the CWA. To hold otherwise would require implausibly concluding that Congress tucked an important expansion to the reach of the CWA into convoluted language in a relatively obscure provision concerning state permitting programs.
…only when wetlands have “a continuous surface connection to bodies that are ‘waters of the United States’ in their own right, so that there is no clear demarcation between ‘waters’ and wetlands.”
The Court has thus required a clear statement from Congress when determining the scope of “the waters of the United States.”
Under these two principles, the judicial task when interpreting “the waters of the United States” is to ascertain whether clear congressional authorization exists for the EPA’s claimed power.
But the CWA does not define the EPA’s jurisdiction based on ecological importance, and we cannot redraw the Act’s allocation of authority.
It is clear that the majority of justices do not suggest that Congress cannot regulate wetlands, merely that the Clean Water Act doesn’t. And therefore this ruling will require Federal agencies such as the EPA and the Corps of Engineers to apply a very narrow or strict enforcement of wetland protection, limited to a much-reduced set of ecosystems. Unless of course, Congress passes a law saying that wetlands are protected.
It will probably take years of work to formulate how to interpret this ruling and write rules for how the Agencies will apply this new interpretation of the law.
Justices Thomas and Gorsuch take an even more restrictive view in their own opinion. They write about the history of environmental regulation as an extension of how the land is treated going back all the way to edicts from the Crown in Colonial days(!!). Essentially, these Justices assert that Congress lacks legal authority to pass environmental laws in general—such laws are beyond the authority given to Congress by the Constitution’s provisions to regulate interstate commerce. The Clean Water Act itself is largely illegal, in other words.
Justice Kavanaugh wrote an opinion that is not so aggressive. He agrees that Congress had the right to pass the Clean Water Act, but that it does not apply to all wetlands—just those that are obviously adjacent to Waters of the US:
Not surprisingly, in the years since 1977, no one has seriously disputed that the Act covers adjacent wetlands. And in light of the text of the Act, eight consecutive Presidential administrations have recognized that the Act covers adjacent wetlands and that adjacent wetlands include more than simply adjoining wetlands. The Court’s analysis today therefore seems stuck in a bit of a time warp—relitigating an issue that Congress settled in 1977 and that this Court has long treated as settled: The Act covers adjacent wetlands.
As the Federal Government suggests, the continuous surface connection test raises “a host of thorny questions” and will lead to “potentially arbitrary results.” Brief for Respondents 29. For example, how difficult does it have to be to discern the boundary between a water and a wetland for the wetland to be covered by the Clean Water Act? How does that test apply to the many kinds of wetlands that typically do not have a surface water connection to a covered water year-round—for example, wetlands and waters that are connected for much of the year but not in the summer when they dry up to some extent? How “temporary” do “interruptions in surface connection” have to be for wetlands to still be covered?
In a scathing dissent, Justices Kagan, Sotomayor, and Jackson write with passion and more than a little snark. They disagree with nearly everything about the majority opinion other than siding with the the Sacketts in their particular case. Indeed, it is clear that this dissent suggests we now have an “activist” Supreme Court:
Surely something has to be done; and who else to do it but this Court? It must rescue property owners from Congress’s too-ambitious program of pollution control.
So the majority shelves the usual rules of interpretation—reading the text, determining what the words used there mean, and applying that ordinary understanding even if it conflicts with judges’ policy preferences.
One last time: “Adjacent” means neighboring, whether or not touching; so, for example, a wetland is adjacent to water on the other side of a sand dune. That congressional judgment is as clear as clear can be—which is to say, as clear as language gets.
But a court may not rewrite Congress’s plain instructions because they go further than preferred. That is what the majority does today in finding that the Clean Water Act excludes many wetlands (clearly) “adjacent” to covered waters.
So I’ll conclude, sadly, by repeating what I wrote last year, with the replacement of only a single word. “[T]he Court substitutes its own ideas about policymaking for Congress’s. The Court will not allow the Clean [Water] Act to work as Congress instructed. The Court, rather than Congress, will decide how much regulation is too much.” Id., at _ (slip op., at 32). Because that is not how I think our Government should work—more, because it is not how the Constitution thinks our Government should work—I respectfully concur in the judgment only.
“But Paul,” you say. “What does it all mean…??”
For the foreseeable future, wetlands that aren’t obviously connected to lakes, permanent streams, or the ocean will not be protected by law. Most potholes, sloughs, fens, bogs, marshes etc etc will be subject to draining or filling…unless they are quite obvious continuous with an open body of water.
Some States (or local governments) will pass wetland protection laws, and they should still be considered legal—the Supreme Court just doesn’t want the Federal government doing that.
Much work will need to be done to determine how to draw a line between a “Water of the US” wit6h it’s included wetlands, and a non-jurisdictional wetland. That may seem like a very simple, commonsense task to a bunch of lawyers…but as someone who has spent much time in and around wet areas, I assure you it is not. Your dictionary is no substitute for a hydrology textbook.
What do YOU think, about this ruling or about the future of wetlands?
Regular readers of this blog know that my research usually involves plants and/or water: what plant species grow where, and how they grow, and about the relationship between plants and the hydrology of wetlands. Although that work will likely continue, I’ve been pulled in another direction of late…as if claws have grabbed me, and won’t let go.
It’s crayfish.
It began in my ecology classes: catching crayfish as a matter of course, trying to sample populations and differentiate habitats and so forth. Just another species to find and put on the data form.
But these animals are lively, and a little scary, and sometimes quite colorful. In other words, they are charismatic. I was baffled by their seemingly random appearance—many many sites appear to have none, but at some sites you can find them in droves. That makes them ecologically interesting.
So I tried to read up on our crayfish, especially their biogeography and conservation…I recommend a recent publication from the Illinois Natural History Survey, Field Guide to Crayfishes of the Midwest by Taylor, Schuster and Wylie. The book has terrific photos and range maps, an identification key, and a solid introduction to the biology of these animals.
Interestingly, the book lists seven publications that review the crayfish of the eight States included in the region. Guess which State is missing….? Yup: Iowa. In fact, that last review of Iowa crayfish is from…1981. “But Paul,” you say. “Aren’t we overdue for a crayfish survey in Iowa? Shouldn’t ‘Somebody’ do one?”
I’m not sure yet where I’m going with this, something not all that unusual in science! I’m reading publications and corresponding with other researchers. I do have a State collecting permit and a little experience now. Hopefully my 99wetlands travels will also give me some ideas on how to do this work??
My initial research goals are basic: determine which species are found in Iowa today, and how to study them effectively. Later, I may be able to estimate population size and structure, or particulars of their lifecycle, or how they use habitats.
Crayish sampling using wire-mesh “torpedo” trap, similar to the trap used to catch minnows
Eventually, I may understand these animals well enough to let them tell me about the condition of our wetlands, ponds, streams and lakes. I imagine that their unique biology makes them a useful indicator of conditins and functions of our aquatic and semiaquatic systems. After all, they are really large aquatic Arthropods, are voracious omnivores while themselves being important prey items, and although generally aquatic are in some cases terrestrial (primarily subterranean, living in burrows).
They are also really tricky to study—hard to catch, only reliably identified as males and at certain portions of life cycle, and mainly nocturnal. So, dear Reader, I make no promises…but I promise to eventually share what I learn.
Any ideas or suggestions? Leave a comment! Thanks for reading.
I recently gave a poster talk at a scientific conference (a meeting of water-related researchers, JASM 2022), the point of which was a call to action. In essence, I argued that our fellow citizens are increasingly adrift in a sea of misinformation, and that we scientists need to both redouble our education/outreach efforts, and also approach such work differently. We need to have a more profound, effective conversation with non-scientists. The time to talk to laypersons is now, and we need to get it right.
“There are three types of lies: Lies, Damned Lies, and Statistics.”
Sadly, most of us experts are ill-equipped for the task. We scientists live in a world of theory, and experimental design, and data collection, and statistics. Almost none of us have any training in sharing any of that work, or its meaning, with non-specialists. That’s been the case pretty much forever, and maybe it was okay in the past: we could rely on just a few scientists who were really interested in doing outreach to the public, or communicating necessary information to decision-makers, and that was enough: the rest could do their investigations, communicating only with their peers and students.
In my presentation, I focused on two examples of the challenge scientists face in this arena: Climate Change, and the Coronavirus pandemic. To be blunt…scientists are learning about how the climate works, or how to protect individuals from a deadly virus, but that hasn’t resulted in a change in society—how we collectively think, talk, and act around those issues. The science is good (very good, in fact) but that doesn’t translate to social progress. And in my poster, I suggest why: society is drowning in a sea of misinformation.
Misinformation is not new…perhaps it’s as old as communication itself? An especially widespread and pernicious example was Big Tobacco, and last week I described how climate-change deniers have lifted from the tobacco apologists’ playbook…and quite effectively, I’m sorry to say. So effective, in fact, that while climate change science has grown much more robust over the last two decades, climate change acceptance by the American public remains virtually unchanged.
Likewise, we faced a pandemic unlike anything humanity experienced for a century. Scientists rushed to prepare a safe, effective vaccine to keep people healthy. As I mentioned in my poster (given at a conference requiring vaccination, no less!), the United States hadn’t reached its stated goal of 80% of the population with the two-dose series. That goal has subsequently dropped to 70% (which is also the worldwide goal), but still we aren’t there: at last check, only 68% have completed the primary series.
So…why are people “vaccine hesitant?” Of course, some aren’t eligible, some just have an extreme distress at needles…but surely, some simply don’t want to get vaccinated, because they think it less safe than…facing a virus unprotected.
I will be teaching a class on science and citizenship in a year or so, and I’ll have students read about the infamous Wakefield study. Although completely debunked years ago (retracted from the journal, in fact)…too many people still erroneously associate MMR or other vaccines with autism. Or, otherwise believe vaccines are harmful.
The fact that the original Wakefield studies were retracted is of little consequence: the damage is done. But that was a long time ago. and people forget or are distracted. Shouldn’t a disgraced study just fade from memory? Is bad information so persistent? Yes, but that’s not the real issue.
In fact, I believe we face a more serious problem: fear is being stoked, truth is being questioned, and misinformation is being industrially manufactured and weaponized. So now, we face a massive global network of sophisticated misinformation. In my opinion, this threatens democracy and people’s health, and will render it increasingly difficult to generate the collective will to tackle environmental protection (e.g., protecting wetlands and other ecological communities, maintaining a safe climate). And without question, we will need to work collectively to save our wetlands, other ecosystems, and ourselves.
“But Paul,” you say. “What to do??” In my poster, I had four suggestions, and I repeat them here:
1.Establish and foster relationships with laypersons in order to build trust, facilitate cooperation, and plan our future.
2.Share your science (professional activity), IF doing so would be helpful to members of the public. (If you only speak science, don’t try public outreach.)
3.Consider engaging directly in the public sphere: civic or social organizations, elected office, etc.
4.Encourage our institutions to adapt to the new social environment, preparing our members for living and working in this misinformation landscape. We must strategize, collaborate, and reach out to regulators and communication experts to address these serious challenges.
Our institutions include educational institutions, of course—hence my proposed new offering, a general education class for any student. I also am spending a little time and effort with my science majors in particular: I want them to start thinking now, about how we will live and work in this new world. And I hope they might even start building something better.
What would “Climate Change” look like, if it were happening…? It’s a question on the minds of many, certainly something I’ve thought about as I travel around Iowa. To my mind, the State looks dry, indeed. It’s a problem throughout the Midwest, actually, and persistent—on and off, here and there, around Iowa for a couple years.
Wetlands with dry, cracked mud are one of many signs that our climate is abnormally dry. In Spring and early summer this year, I found streams and marshes and ponds all with low water, or no water, where normally there’s plenty of water present. Actually, this is the second year of dry conditions: last year my students made fun of me as I exclaimed “Wow, this spot is REALLY dry…” over and over, one site we visited after another.
“But Paul,” you say. “Is this drought caused by Climate Change?” Sorry, I can’t answer that with certainty. It’s frustrating, but it’s the truth of how science works. Scientists must hypothesize, gather and evaluate evidence, and work in probabilities. It’s seldom an obvious cause-and-effect for a particular meteorological event. We usually can’t say “THAT ONE is caused by Climate Change.”
But while I can’t say for certain that THIS drought is the result of climate change, I’m quite certain that droughts ARE caused by Climate Change. It’s exactly the sort of effect associated with an ongoing, overall, global phenomenon. As the Drought Center report linked above indicates, the effects are wide-reaching: crop yields reduced, ecology impacted, surface water and navigation, and on and on.
Nevertheless, climate-change deniers would latch onto my honest-but-hesitant statement above to suggest “climate change isn’t the issue, you yourself admit you can’t prove it.” It’s tiresome, because it’s so very dishonest. It’s also a very old, and sadly all-too-effective, form of misdirection and obfuscation. It’s how you pretend to engage with a topic related to science, without truly, honestly, coming to terms with it.
In class, I describe this strategy used effectively for years by the tobacco industry. For decades, tobacco companies cast doubt, misdirected attention, put up barriers to action, and told bald-faced lies. Unsurprisingly, the tobacco companies didn’t want to be regulated, and resisted any public, official condemnation of their product (such as official statements suggesting it was harmful to health). But instead of an honest “people have used tobacco for millenia, and they like it, so leave us alone” approach, they pretended to “research” its health effects, while in fact making it more difficult to document the real consequences to health.
Last week, I wondered how the U.S. Supreme Court might rule in this session in a potentially landmark decision about wetlands. It’s altogether possible that a decision will narrow the legal definition of “Waters of the United States (WOTUS),” ceasing protection of all such systems unless they have an obvious surface connection (adjacency) to a lake, river, or the ocean.
You, the frog, the grass and mud and water—all part of Nature?
Fifty years ago this month, the Clean Water Act was passed, requiring legal protection for WOTUS. Not many years afterwards, courts ruled that wetlands are WOTUS…and we’ve argued about this ever since.
What if wetlands were protected in another way? What if they had a fundamental, legally-recognized right to exist—in the same way humans are recognized to have legal rights? That’s the idea behind an initiative declaring “Universal Declaration of the Rights of Wetlands” and it’s supporters include wetland scientists, legal experts, and conservations. You can read more on the webpage of the initiative, here.
The bullet points are simple enough, and seem reasonable. Basically, these systems should be allowed to remain in place, undisturbed and unpolluted, and the processes that maintain their ongoing integrity and existence should be kept functioning. If you are reading this, you probably care about wetlands, and find all those goals laudable.
Still, if you’re like me, you’ll need to work a bit to take this in. My life experiences and education were more or less reflective of the dominant Western culture, so the notion that Nature has an inherent right to exist, a sort of “personhood” is new to me. I was raised to believe that my species was in charge, and an enlightened view would say that we had a responsibility to care for the Earth, and certainly a self-interest insomuch as we are directly dependent on the Biosphere. So, yeah…try not to ruin the planet as you rule with dominion and your super-exalted status.
Algal bloom: a stinky mess, but also a symptom of a broken relationship with our environment…?
The land ethic simply enlarges the boundaries of the community to include soils, waters, plants, and animals, or collectively: the land.…… In short, a land ethic changes the role of Homo sapiens from conqueror of the land–community to plain member and citizen of it.
Aldo Leopold
But certainly there have been other voices, even if we didn’t hear. Aldo Leopold was bold, and challenged us to know what indigenous peoples recognized all along: we are part of, not apart from, Nature. The life and living systems around us should have a place in our hearts and minds, evoking respect. To truly respect—perhaps even love—Nature would lead us to behave very differently than we do. It might just help us live sustainably on the Earth.
“But Paul,” you say. “Wetlands as persons? No formal legal system could handle THAT.” But indeed it has happened, in Australia, New Zealand, India, Bangladesh, Ecuador, and elsewhere. No doubt we’d have much work to build a framework of legal recognition for these systems.
But after nearly 50 years, we haven’t yet done that work to protect wetlands with our current law.
Maybe it’s time for another approach.
What do YOU think? Leave a comment. Thanks for reading!
Mist on the wetland…puts me in a contemplative, perhaps spiritual, frame of mind
Backwater (slough) near the Mississippi River. The hydrologic connection to WOTUS is obvious; in other wetlands perhaps, not so much…
Last week, the Supreme Court of the United States (SCOTUS) opened its new session with consideration of wetland regulation. In the case of Sackett vs. EPA, the fundamental question is, “are wetlands included in the Clean Water Act’s protection for Waters of the United States (WOTUS)?” Grist has a succinct summary of the case. Another summary with additional context is also worth a read.
I am not a lawyer, and not well-versed in the workings of this country’s legal system. But I believe decisions regarding environmental protection should carefully consider expert opinion. As a member of two of the scientific societies which are authors of a legal document (“Amicus Brief”), I am one of over 100,000 experts whose input is available to help make this decision. Will the many, many pieces of expert testimony sway the Court, or will they just…reach for a dictionary? Time will tell.
For the record, several past entries on this blog have pointed out that wetlands connect to surface waters in various ways—not all the time, not always at the surface—but nevertheless, connect they do. For a review, try clicking on the “hydrology” tag.
OUT OF THE SWAMP: further musings
Last week, when my Field Botany students at Central College heard about Sackett v. EPA, and the endless debate about the definition of WOTUS, they asked for a “pep talk.” I acknowledged that all this is a bit challenging, possibly even leading to despair. I relayed that this summer, students in my Aquatic Ecology class at Iowa Lakeside Laboratory had surprised me after some frank discussion…by asking for a “pep talk.”
Honestly, I…was ill-prepared (I’m pretty sure “motivational speech” was not part of the curriculum in my graduate-school program). Anyway, I gamely tried to give those Lakeside students a little speech to lift their spirits.
Taking inspiration from the handsome “stone labs” and other historic structures on the campus, I countered the gloom-and-doom of today with…past gloom-and-doom. I gave a thoughtful historical survey—basically, “we had bad times before, and muddled through, and we’ll do it again!!”
Bad idea.
I left my camera unattended; my students don’t normally look like this in class. (Maybe after I return an exam??)
So this past week, for the Botany class“pep talk,” I knew I needed to do better. So, I made a list, and I’m presenting it here. I give you The Truth, followed by some Friendly Advice…
The Truth
We don’t need to “Save the Earth.” This planet existed long before us, and will persist after our exit. Instead, we need to save ourselves…from ourselves.
We have everything we need, in hand, right now. We can preserve peace, reverse climate change, feed ourselves, and yes…protect wetlands. We need no new technical innovations, we simply need the will to do it.
People have power. We change the world every day, intentionally or not. Get in the habit of speaking truth, acting generously, really listening to others, and working for good. It matters, even if it’s only through your example, and even if the effects are invisible to you today.
Diversity is a Blessing. Let’s celebrate it all: biodiversity, human languages, cultures, colors, identities. It’s a source of joy and strength—stop trying to “accept” or “tolerate” or “manage,” instead let’s embrace the gift.
Truth has the last word (always). Lately, powerful people and institutions and wealth have enjoyed a heyday of hate and division and lies, lies, lies. But that can’t last forever, because the truth simply exists, and stubbornly refuses to go away.
Friendly Advice
Find your people. Work with others. This is the only practical way to get things done, and you’ll need the support and encouragement of like-minded friends.
Celebrate! We’ve made progress in some ways. We have great friends and supporters. We have plenty of beauty and joy around us…enjoy it all.
Keep looking up. Yes, you will get discouraged. Never stop moving and growing.
Be positive and invitational. Ask for help, share your expertise and knowledge, bring in new friends. Let’s rally and organize, and together we’ll succeed.
So, what do YOU think? Questions about wetland law? Speculation about the upcoming SCOTUS decision? Advice and wisdom to share? Please leave a comment. Thanks for reading!!
Why did the turtle cross the road…? To go back to the wetland, of course.
Hello, Dear Reader. Nice to reconnect.
It’s been over two years since my last blog entry. I had completed my epic quest, visiting every one of Iowa’s 99 counties, and then a few additional reflections about the journey. My work seemed finished, I needed a break.
And then, life happened—especially crazy times at work and a pandemic. I hope you’ve made it through safe and sound.
And now, I’m back. I plan to write a few updates on wetland wanderings, pretty photographs and some interpretation. You can enjoy those bits of ecology & natural history as you have in the past—and thanks for the support.
But several entries will also include additional thoughts, “Out Of The Swamp,” with my comments on science and society, current events and philosophical musings. Read these if you like, comment and ask questions, provide some feedback or pose other questions for us to ponder.
So—watch this space. I look forward to our “Wetland Wednesdays.”
He’s got a new version of his shirt…he MUST be serious about this!!
Last week, I described what I found out on the land during my tour of Iowa’s 99 counties. That entry, and this whole blog, is about wetlands. But with your indulgence, I’d like to engage in a bit of self-reflection. I’ve learned about more than just wetlands, as it turns out. While slogging about these past three years, I’ve come to understand three truths: the value of being myself, of being in community, and of being connected to place.
Student artwork, inspired by a lesson on “modular growth” of cattails
To be myself
We scientists (at least, those of my generation) were trained to conduct science in a dispassionate, disciplined way. Our goal is to ask questions and seek answers mechanically, avoiding bias as much as possible. Even the dry, stilted writing we employ when describing our work (“data were collected…” “…these results may reasonably be interpreted to suggest…”) encourage us to pretend to be science-robots.
Although this approach has noble intentions, it is still flawed in two important ways. First, it suggests we might somehow avoid bias (we can’t), thus avoiding the difficult and messy work of actually confronting our bias. Second, it places an artificial barrier between scientists and others (young would-be scientists, or the general public). Why are we are then surprised that science is seen as elitist and out-of-touch?
This 99wetlands project was an acknowledgment that today, society needs scientists to remember to be human beings, and to make a personal connection with non-scientists. We need to share our passion as well as our knowledge, and to engage in important conversations. Time spent driving to the slough or writing a blog entry was also time spent asking what’s really important to me, and why, and how to convey that to my readers. I hope I’ve done that in this blog.
Tour of Bee Branch project, Dubuque
Living in community
I don’t own a wetland. Every site I profiled belongs to a private landowner, or is public land. It was important that this 99wetlands story include stories about the people who own, love, work in, and enjoy wetlands. I was delighted that in sharing their ecosystems, they shared their stories: what makes this place special, what should my readers know about it, how do you care for this place, what are we learning through this work? Getting to know the wetland meant telling the stories of my fellow wetlanders, and I loved it!
Including my students in my forays was both natural and a delight. These young people bring such energy and enthusiasm. Their questions and observations make me think about my work in new ways. Teaching brings great meaning to my life, and introducing young people to the beauty and the business of the ecosystem is truly a privilege.
And where would a writer be without a reader?? Almost 10,000 viewers from 60 different countries…that’s worth my effort! The blog format encourages readers to post comments and questions, and that’s the best part. I enjoy hearing additional points of view, examples from others’ experience, and the occasional gentle correction when I make a mistake. Much like my media interviews, I hear a comment from time-to-time out in The Real World, about how someone learned something new, or that I shared something that brought a little joy to their day. It means so much to me.
Landowners invest much thought into wetland construction and management
Connected to a place
I’ve lived in Iowa for over 20 years now; Iowa feels like home. What better way to get the “sense of place” every environmental scientist needs, than to explore? So now, I have a better sense of Iowa geography—river to river, woods to prairies, farms and cities. I know more Iowa history, even pre-history of ancient peoples. I’ve met a few more Iowans—from ranchers to scientists to photographers. My wanderings and adventures make me love the place even more!
This quest was part of the inspiration for a class I’ll be teaching in a few weeks called, “Iowa: A Sense Of Place.” It’s one of those first-year college seminars where we introduce students to the academic life, to many ways of learning and knowing. You better believe I plan to have a good time with the class! Like this blog, I want to tell lots of different kinds of stories. Like this blog, I want it to be interactive. Like this blog, I hope it is life-changing.
This rustic sign ifts right in, don’t be ofFENded
Some Final Thoughts…
I finish the 99 wetlands in a tumultuous time, indeed. As I write this, our country grapples with racial injustice in a most public way, perhaps more directly than at any time since the 1960s. It suffers from an economic depression not seen since the 1930s. We’re living through the worst pandemic in a century.
I haven’t exactly enjoyed these past six months, to be honest.
One of the things that has proven a comfort at this time, is the joy I feel when I’m in nature. I encourage you, if you can, to go find a pretty spot and just be still. You can find all sorts of studies about the mental-health benefits of spending time alone, contemplating the natural world. You can experience the aesthetic of nature-inspired art. You can reflect on the spiritual writings of ancient mystics and prophets who communed with Nature. Or…you can just go, and have that time away from the stifling oppression of the stresses and demands of everyday life.
Maybe you’ll choose to go to a wetland in Iowa. Maybe you’ll see me there.
I plan to keep exploring the wetlands, but informally and intermittently. I’ll still blog from time-to-time. Maybe I’ll make some videos. I’m told I should write a book, and maybe I will. I’ll keep you updated on whatever crazy shenanigans come next.
Until then…thanks again, and stay squishy!
End of the Trail…at least, the 99 quest is completed…I hope the fun continues!!
I’ve now traveled throughout all of Iowa, meeting amazing people and seeing remarkable wetland ecosystems. Across 124 blog posts, I’ve tried to share my excitement with readers about the sights, sounds…and yes, smells…I’ve experienced.
“But Paul,” you say. “Just what is The Big Picture of Iowa’s wetlands…?”
Well, certainly no one can deny that Iowa has more diversity than is immediately obvious. Despite the loss of more than 90% of the State’s wetlands, I still found natural fens, potholes, sloughs, bottomland forests, brushy swamps, wet meadows, and marshes. I observed resident and migratory amphibians, reptiles, birds, mammals and insects. Gorgeous wildflowers, intricate mollusk shells, gnarled driftwood, and the water itself, all have unique beauty.
My interest in history appears in stories about Native American burial mounds, traditional uses of plants, a profile of “Ding” Darling and the modern American wetland conservation movement, “ghost towns” and changing land use, and Superfund and other serious contamination…and how we’ve addressed our legacy. The story I didn’t tell, and the sites I couldn’t show, were the countless missing wetlands. The landscape still has scars and remnants of drained or filled wetlands, often quite obvious in Spring when fields are still wet, or at high flow events in streams and rivers which attempt to reclaim old oxbows or floodplains where the water naturally moved from time to time.
Sometimes a blog entry was less about the site itself, and more about what we do at wetlands—the business of wetland science and management. It’s fascinating to “read” signs of hydrology (water movement or characteristics) when a site is in fact very dry. Identifying plants and animals is a useful tool, and Iowa has knowledgeable and generous naturalists—mostly unpaid, yet quite expert—who help each other to learn the species and about their biology. We all use maps, aerial photographs (including fancy Infrared or decades-old historic shots), soil samples and marker horizons (glitter, anyone??), chemical analyses, and a well-developed series of procedures to accurately identify, delineate and classify wetlands.
Redheads are handsome, yes…? 😉
I haven’t talked much about how to care for our wetlands, and I’d love to do more with that in the future. Science and my personal observations all confirm that wetlands are never isolated, but are connected to other elements of the landscape. Healthy ecosystems are dynamic and adaptive, always-changing. Although we attempt to isolate or standardize the condition of a wetland, that’s always a bad idea, even if well-intentioned.
This blog is proof that, deep down, I’m a teacher…and in particular a teacher who loves to share stories. Most of my favorite memories are of wetland visits spent with my students. We get wet and muddy. We try to observe the organisms close-up (but hopefully, gently and respectfully). We learn about the conditions of water and air and soil that together, over time and through the work of life itself, make these unique and beautiful places.
For some additional reflection on this quest, I encourage you to listen to an interview I gave with the news director at our local radio stations, KNIA-KRLS. You’ll find answers to questions like why wetlands are important, which of the 99 was my favorite site, recurring themes through the project, and what this all means for my other professional activity.
What was your favorite memory? What would you still like to learn?
I’ve now traveled throughout all of Iowa, meeting amazing people and seeing remarkable wetland ecosystems. Across 124 blog posts, I’ve tried to share my excitement with readers about the sights, sounds…and yes, smells…I’ve experienced.
My interest in history appears in stories about Native American burial mounds, traditional uses of plants, a profile of “Ding” Darling and the modern American wetland conservation movement, “ghost towns” and changing land use, and Superfund and other serious contamination…and how we’ve addressed our legacy. The story I didn’t tell, and the sites I couldn’t show, were the countless missing wetlands. The landscape still has scars and remnants of drained or filled wetlands, often quite obvious in Spring when fields are still wet, or at high flow events in streams and rivers which attempt to reclaim old oxbows or floodplains where the water naturally moved from time to time.
For some additional reflection on this quest, I encourage you to 
99Wetlands 