the end

And that was the end of the blog of the land steward.

two slough years

It has now been two years since beginning this job at the Slough. It's so cliche to say that time flies, but it does. It really does. And I'm sure I've said it before, but it takes a long time to get to know a place. In fact, things change so much and so constantly, and cycles can be so long, that I may see something new in ten years that I've never seen before.

The connections have been the most amazing part of all of this. My connection to the place I grew up. Connecting the waters I spent ten years cleaning and bringing kids to (and the dream of restoring Carr Lake), mingling with the waters of the Elkhorn Slough. My husband's first student film about the Slough and his latest award winning film, Home for Hawksbill, in the docent den library. Not to mention the simple and deep connection to place.

After all these years working with people in different places and different habitats, I'm convinced the key (one of the keys at least) to conservation lies in repeated exposure to place. Taking time to get to know it, to be in it. This is a translatable concept to any relationship one might have. Maybe I have my head in the clouds. Maybe my experiences are a bit narrow, but I was not an "environmentalist" by any means growing up. I became so passionate about this stuff in my mid 20's when I was thrust into it for a year, outside in one place, learning and doing, definitely connecting, and something clicked. I wonder about this all the time - what does it take to make people care about taking care of the natural areas around where they live?

Let me climb down from my horse and realize the bubble I live in, the community I am immersed in, and the struggle most are engaged in. Let me do what I do and continue to love it and hope the exchange keeps happening.

Cheers to two years.

volunteers

They are the best of the best. The heart and soul. The reason I do what I do.

this blog is officially re-titled

I've decided to re-title this blog so that it will not tie me solely to restoration at the Elkhorn Slough or the Elkhorn Slough to me.

It's been fun and enlightening to reflect on what I do and what I see at work, but I'd like this blog to expand a bit. Until I do this, here are some great moments from the Elkhorn Slough Reserve.

images of the week

My new favorite tool - the scythe. I'll need to dedicate an entire post to this amazing tool later. But this is what it can do in about one minute without gasoline.

While pulling cape ivy under the oaks in Long Valley (the other vegetation is mostly native blackberry returning!)

I found this interesting hairy growth under a leaf. I have no clue what it might be/come.

Highlight - I was lucky enough to get close to this beautiful kingsnake!

what restoration means to me

I grew up in the hills of the Elkhorn Slough. Before I even knew what maritime chaparral was called, I was playing in it with plastic horses and Barbie dolls.

I am one steward in a long line of stewards and there will people doing this after I am gone. Some call it land management. Like the farmers of the Elkhorn Farm Dairy before, I too consider myself a farmer, "harvesting" Santa Cruz Long-toed salamanders, clean water, and diverse resilient native habitats. 

Management might imply control, but we only have so much control over this landscape. I focus on developing relationships with this land and developing relationships with the people who live here and already have relationships with this land.

In Tending the Wild by M. Kat Anderson, she writes about two diametrically opposed extremes regarding nature - leaving it alone or destroying it. But in between those extremes lies a continuum of complex and sophisticated interactions with nature. I believe this middle ground is where the "restorationist" might fit.

". . .both in the sense that he or she is trying to re-create complex systems that arise from intimate interaction between nature and culture and in the sense that in doing this he or she is beginning to create a culture of place - a culture that is capable of interacting with nature without destroying it."

Ever since humans have been here we've manipulated, shaped, pruned, harvested, burned, and weeded to get what we want from the land. I'm just one in a continuum, hoping to contribute to the health of the area.

images of the week

The underground critters are harvesting the blue wild rye

while I harvest ripe deerweed

and manzanita berries, pajaro and hookers mainly

meanwhile the chamise is still in beautiful bloom

and the acorns are green

The bark of the manzanita is peeling

the flowers of the golden yarrow have tiny insects on them

the coyote scratches its chin

and the clarkia punches bright through the browns and the greens of Summer.

Save The Bay visits the Slough

Save The Bay came to visit! Well, just the restoration crew, who are awesome! We hosted an enrichment day for the group that involved Carla Fresquez explaining some of her ecotone salt addition experiments. Andrea sharing history and place and more ecotone experiments. Other ESNERR staff shared what they did and why it matters. Basically we all shared!

I have a soft spot for STB because I used to be employed there (and I'm still a member). It is an ambitious and strong organization that continues to grow and change. It seems that the restoration team is getting even more focused on science and research while beefing up the education component so it can be effectively interpreted for the general public.

I really enjoyed meeting the new faces and was so thrilled to be with everyone I had worked with. Sharing is such an important part of what we do as restorationists. Especially when others are doing something similar enough but not quite the same. We take each other further. And that's what it's all about. Or is the hokey pokey really what it's all about (wink wink Wainer).

harvesting native plants

What role has harvesting plants played in the development of our California landscape? This may be simple I know,  but I know how much I eat and how much food it takes for me to live. We have enough information to know that people before me harvested a lot of local plant material to sustain a family for a year.

This does have a connection to stewardship now. Land management has changed. Previous burning helped maintain productivity, cleared bugs, and fertilized the soil. It is very difficult to pull off a fire at the Reserve these days with so many permanent houses next door. It's dangerous. We're not into endangering life and property. Yet I am compelled to integrate the harvest into my management strategy. It's just a concept at this point and I'm not sure how it will all play out.

In our rich Central Coast history, we have moved from relying on local plants and animals to importing from far away. We're moving to a more "buy local" economy in some circles, but we aren't eating local. What if we started to eat REALLY local. We may not have enough to go around, but what if we farmed red maid seeds? Miner's lettuce?

Let's not limit it to natives. I just sent out the word to local herbalists that if they want to come help reduce the seed source of one of our least-wanted invasives (milk thistle), they can come gather seeds and cut down the plants.

Let's get out of the box. It's a new world.

solid stewardship

I've been collecting seeds with volunteers, watering planting sites, weeding, and prepping for next year plantings and sites. And of course running the nursery, which could very well take up all my time, but it can't because I only have so much time.

The regular and late rains made it difficult to keep up on the ambitious restoration schedule I laid out for myself this season. So I retreat back to a consistent, solid routine that gets the job done. To sustain the momentum, I keep in mind (among other things) the spiders that hang on the Nassella.

economics of restoration

I like reading this kind of morning news!

"Restoring lost and damaged ecosystems--from forests and freshwaters to mangroves and wetlands--can trigger multi-million dollar returns, generate jobs and combat poverty according to a new report compiled by the UN Environment Programme (UNEP).

. . .Wetlands, half of which have been drained over the past century often for agriculture, provide annual services of near $7 trillion.

Forested wetlands treat more wastewater per unit of energy and have up to 22 fold higher cost-benefit ratios than traditional sand filtration in treatment plants.

Coastal wetlands in the United States, which among other services provide storm protection, have been valued at $23 billion annually.

In India, mangroves serving as storm barriers have been noted to reduce individual household damages from $153 per household to an average of $33 per household in areas with intact mangroves.

Pollination from bees and other insects provide services boosting agricultural production worth at least $153 billion annually.

Ecosystems are also central in natural pest control, indeed, many of the world's key crops such as coffee, tea and mangoes are dependent on the pollination and pest control services of birds and insects."

From sustainablebusiness.com
http://www.sustainablebusiness.com/index.cfm/go/news.display/id/20440

barn swallows fledge again

Last year it was July 16. This year, the first date I saw the young barn swallow emerge from their nest was June 4. Four small birds, although they don't look small when they all crowd back into the nest.

weeds

For me, this weed season has been overwhelming. I have been pushed around and beat up by the invasives. Battling them all just isn't feasible. I have to pick my battles. Of course we do this as land managers. We prioritize. But even those prioritized sites and weeds got away this year.

Shifts take place. Dominant species change ranks. Areas that I knew 20 years ago dominated by mustard are now dominated by Italian thistle.

It's interesting how weeds show themselves in patterns. Rows of radish, rows of mustard, and rows of hemlock.

We have nine acres of Vinca.

Eucalyptus, cape ivy, English ivy, veldt grass, vinca, thistle, hemlock. Sometimes it's really hard for me not to get totally overwhelmed.

one, two, three . . .

Four hundred and fourteen french broom seedlings pulled.

Three great horned owls spotted from a distance.

One bee on a plant, making true its name.

images of the week