Cara Giaimo: Shifting Baseline Syndrome→

Anthropocene:

“Imagine a world where flocks of birds block out the sun, millions of bison roam the Great Plains, and groupers are the size of those who catch them. For many contemporary people, such scenes seem impossible, as though they should be preceded by “once upon a time.” But they did happen, mere centuries or even decades ago. As generations of humans empty the world, their descendants are unable to see—and so find it hard to understand—how full it once was.

In 1995, fisheries scientist Daniel Pauly used the term “shifting baseline syndrome” to describe this phenomenon: each generation of fisheries scientists, he wrote, “accepts as a baseline the stock size and species composition that occurred at the beginning of their careers,” leading to “a gradual accommodation of the creeping disappearance” of species. Shifting baseline syndrome and its implications are now frequently invoked by people concerned about conservation, management, and environmental education.

But although it’s an intuitive concept, it’s difficult to study. For a recent paper in People and Nature, a group of researchers surveyed hundreds of UK residents about the populations of ten local bird species, and compared their knowledge with historic data. They also, for the first time, connected the survey-takers’ knowledge of past and present bird abundance with their opinions about conserving those birds. And while they found evidence that younger people are generally less adept at recognizing biological change than their elders are, they also found that knowledge of and personal experience with nature can help overcome that age gap. ”

Ross Andersen: Insight from Lake Sediment→

Atlantic:

“On a spring morning in New Hampshire, 2,000 years ago, sunlight struck a black cherry tree, opening its white-and-yellow blossoms. As the tree swayed gently in breeze, spiky, spherical pollen grains spilled out of its flowers, and floated up through the limbs and leaves of the canopy, before drifting down to the still surface of a nearby lake. Cool water stalled the pollen’s descent, but still, it kept falling, riding the currents all the way to the lake’s bottom, where it mixed with silt and slowly hardened into sediment.

Time piled new layers of mud and soil atop the pollen, pushing it deeper into the Earth. For two millennia, it continued to sink at that geologic pace, until suddenly, and with some violence, it was slurped up to the surface, through an aluminum tube.

Sitting on a floating platform, a small team of scientists pulled the pollen up as part of a cylinder of sediment, a core bored out of the lake bottom. A core looks like nothing more than a cross-section of muck, but each of its sedimentary slices is an archive, packed with fragments of sticks and leaves, charred remains of wood—and enough pollen grains to census the trees that once surrounded the lake.”

History of Lake Itasca, Source of the Mississippi River→

Steven Penick, writing for MinnPost:

Randen Pederson, Flickr

“The Itasca forest during the late nineteenth century contained towering pines and numerous lakes. Individuals like surveyor Jacob Brower became captivated by the region and the wildlife that inhabited it. They recognized that the economic potential of northern Minnesota would change its landscape. Their effort to preserve Lake Itasca led them to contend with the lumber industry, public interests, and the politics that weaved between them.

People have long appreciated Lake Itasca’s beauty and resources. Some eight thousand years ago indigenous hunters left spears at a bison kill site in the area. Around 1200 CE the Blackduck people created a village there, eventually leaving remnants of their unique pottery behind. Ojibwe groups have lived in the lake’s vicinity since the 1700s.

The U.S. government slowly began turning their attention to the region after buying Louisiana Territory from France in 1803. In 1832 the Ojibwe leader Ozaawindib brought Henry Schoolcraft to Omushkos Lake and the Mississippi headwaters. Schoolcraft renamed the lake Itasca by combining the Latin words veritas (truth) and caput (head).”

On many long journeys have I gone. And waited, too, for others to return from journeys of their own. Some return; some are broken; some come back so different only their names remain. Be brave, Lake Itasca go you must.

Muir and Plato Go for a Stroll→

Evan Edwards, writing at The Center for Humans & Nature Blog:

“But this is all, in a sense, beside the point. I’m pulled back to the reason for which I bent these pages of Muir’s essay in the first place. Somewhere in these hundred or so pages is a very particular passage which, at least in my own impression of the essay, seems to form its essence. Inasmuch as it has remained in my memory over the course of the last few years, the passage reads something like this: “When traveling through Yellowstone, what is of utmost importance is to give oneself time to visit its wonders with appropriate duration.”

Of course, this seems like the height of banality. If we want to really experience something fully, we can’t rush through. The idea isn’t new. The critique of speed, the antediluvian stance against technology, this isn’t what makes up the heart of Muir’s call. The importance of this injunction is clarified in what is (or at least what I remember to be) the illuminating sense of the appeal: “Spend time walking through the park. You can’t really experience the park if you are traveling at forty miles per day.” Again, I haven’t yet found the exact quote. I’m just recalling. For some reason or another, however, the idea has stuck with me in a way that not many have since.”

You can see things clearly, smell the ground, hear the fine sounds of nature if you are traveling too fast. We are built for walking and walking is the best way to connect to the rest of nature.

The United (Watershed) States of America→

John Lavey, writing in Community Builders:

“What if the Western states were formed around watershed as [John Wesley] Powell envisioned? What would that look like and could we speculate on what that might mean for the functioning of modern communities? And since we’re going down that road, let’s ask another what if: What if all of the American states were based around principal watershed, from coast to coast – something even Powell didn’t consider.”

This was an interesting exercise. Your imagination might run looking at the map -- contemplating the consequences of an alternative spatial political structure. 

John Wesley Powell's map:

Is Conservation Extinct? A new look at preserving biodiversity→

Hillary Rosner, reporting for ENSIA:

“WWF’s Hoekstra likes to talk about “the pivot.”

Reactive and defensive almost by definition, conservation has long made its living by explicitly looking backward. It’s an approach that made perfect sense, for a time. “We wanted to restore a species so that it spanned the breadth of its historic range,” says Hoekstra. “We would look to the past and say, ‘We should have this much of this habitat back again, or it should look this way.’” But while this strategy may still work in certain specific cases, as an overarching vision it no longer fits. You can’t “dial back time” in a world of 9 billion people demanding water, food and energy.”

Interesting perspective that ecologists should stop using the 'past' to guide conservation, but rather look to the future or predict that future to direct today's conservation efforts. In a rapidly changing world, this approach makes sense.

Apollo 11 F-1 Engine Recovery (Rocket Science)→

Bezos Expeditions:

“The F-1 rocket engine is still a modern wonder — one and a half million pounds of thrust, 32 million horsepower, and burning 6,000 pounds of rocket grade kerosene and liquid oxygen every second. On July 16, 1969, the world watched as five particular F-1 engines fired in concert, beginning the historic Apollo 11 mission. Those five F-1s burned for just a few minutes, and then plunged back to Earth into the Atlantic Ocean, just as NASA planned. A few days later, Neil Armstrong stepped onto the moon.”

A 1950s engine remains a marvel of invention. Sometimes we need to explore the past to help us in the present. Evolution of this rocket science:

How NASA brought the monstrous F-1 “moon rocket” engine back to life

New F-1B rocket engine upgrades Apollo-era design with 1.8M lbs of thrust