The need for a sense of community is
important, yet sometimes taken for granted. Groups formed under
localized, circumstancial conditions always run the risk of extinction
when not replenished with a diversity of ideas and members. Alas, human
communities, like their wild counterparts, are subject to the same
threats of fragmentation, isolation and genetic degradation.
Aldo Leopold's land ethic " enlarges the boundaries of the community to include soils, waters, plants, and animals; or collectively: the land." In that sense, I feel that a naturalist community can, by seeking place-based knowledge, actively pursue the land ethic. Through direct interaction and learning about natural communities, we are granted that singular sense familiarity and belonging that is the hallmark of the naturalist experience, what E.O Wilson calls the "naturalist's trance." But what does a human community look like?
As in a healthy forest, I like to think a healthy community has a distinct structure and composition. The analogy can be applied elsewhere, but a regional naturalist community, I think, is significantly "forest-like."
Consider their diversity first: there are birders, wildflower watchers, log flippers and snake wranglers, entomologists, mycologists, geologists, paddlers and waders, lovers of streams and lakes, cloud gazers and star gazers, edible/useful plant gatherers, herbalists, edible/useful plant gatherers, ethnobotanists, hunters/sportsmen and more. There are also many generalists that seem to get into everything. Considering the above list, the naturalist community as a whole is a large and powerful force to be reckoned with. They are spread across the state and working in a variety of capacities, some of them as professional biologists, others as computer programmers, with a compulsion for the The naturalist diversity is unique in that it parallels the diversity of the natural communities.
But there is structure to consider. In the forest there are old and triumphant trees. These have stood the test of time and witnessed the many changes over the years: storms, droughts, floods. I see these grandfather trees in the likes of legendary Charles Allen, Malcom Vidrine and Kelby Ouchley (to name a few). They loom tall and hold many stories of the past and present. Canopy trees protect the forest floor from the harsh heat and dessication and provide the seeds that are the bounty of diverse lifeforms. They also provide genetic information that is the germ of the future. Yet a community cannot thrive with the giants alone. There is an understory: maturing trees to take the place of the elders when the canopy opens up once more. Then there are the young recruits near the forest floor, thin and meager in the dappled light of all that waves above them.
Me, I am a sapling at best and a generalist among many experts in the conservation movement of Louisiana.
But as an ecology-minded person, I take great interest in the structure and diversity of our Louisiana community. The experience and generosity of the "grandfather trees" through the years has given us great books and restored natural areas. I am anxious to identify all of them, thank them and celebrate their life's work. But I also take great interest in recruitment of the young. The future of the forest lies in the seeds that germinate and thrive. Ecologists today know that a forest ecosystem is at its best when it sustains the largest variety of age classes and species. So I wonder today: What is our forest made of? How deep, how wide do these roots go?
After much thought, I've decided to create an informal group known as the Louisiana Naturalist Network (LNN) to see if I can't get at the heart of these questions and more. I've begun with a new facebook group that I hope can collect the many faces of this burgeoning community, the young and the old alike.
The idea is to help people with a variety of nature interests find and recognize each other and share information. Ideally, the group could organize outings and collectively support conservation initiatives--a sort of carrot mob for biodiversity. Yet I would be happy if this group only succeeded in matching one person with one new resource they did not know previously existed. I do think, however, that there is potential for much more and I look forward to seeing what becomes of this simple idea.
When the Louisiana Master Naturalist Program comes into full swing and is ready to give its first classes, I hope naturalists around the state will already know about LMNP and be ready to take advantage of their training. This program, if it succeeds, has the potential to unlock a powerful force in Louisiana because it opens the doors of conservation and place-based education to the average citizen, who may or may not care to ever have a degree in the biological sciences. We need alternative routes to outdoor learning and conservation. We need alternative routes to meeting each other.
Please share your thoughts on this essay below. Where do you work? What is your passion?
Aldo Leopold's land ethic " enlarges the boundaries of the community to include soils, waters, plants, and animals; or collectively: the land." In that sense, I feel that a naturalist community can, by seeking place-based knowledge, actively pursue the land ethic. Through direct interaction and learning about natural communities, we are granted that singular sense familiarity and belonging that is the hallmark of the naturalist experience, what E.O Wilson calls the "naturalist's trance." But what does a human community look like?
As in a healthy forest, I like to think a healthy community has a distinct structure and composition. The analogy can be applied elsewhere, but a regional naturalist community, I think, is significantly "forest-like."
Consider their diversity first: there are birders, wildflower watchers, log flippers and snake wranglers, entomologists, mycologists, geologists, paddlers and waders, lovers of streams and lakes, cloud gazers and star gazers, edible/useful plant gatherers, herbalists, edible/useful plant gatherers, ethnobotanists, hunters/sportsmen and more. There are also many generalists that seem to get into everything. Considering the above list, the naturalist community as a whole is a large and powerful force to be reckoned with. They are spread across the state and working in a variety of capacities, some of them as professional biologists, others as computer programmers, with a compulsion for the The naturalist diversity is unique in that it parallels the diversity of the natural communities.
But there is structure to consider. In the forest there are old and triumphant trees. These have stood the test of time and witnessed the many changes over the years: storms, droughts, floods. I see these grandfather trees in the likes of legendary Charles Allen, Malcom Vidrine and Kelby Ouchley (to name a few). They loom tall and hold many stories of the past and present. Canopy trees protect the forest floor from the harsh heat and dessication and provide the seeds that are the bounty of diverse lifeforms. They also provide genetic information that is the germ of the future. Yet a community cannot thrive with the giants alone. There is an understory: maturing trees to take the place of the elders when the canopy opens up once more. Then there are the young recruits near the forest floor, thin and meager in the dappled light of all that waves above them.
Me, I am a sapling at best and a generalist among many experts in the conservation movement of Louisiana.
But as an ecology-minded person, I take great interest in the structure and diversity of our Louisiana community. The experience and generosity of the "grandfather trees" through the years has given us great books and restored natural areas. I am anxious to identify all of them, thank them and celebrate their life's work. But I also take great interest in recruitment of the young. The future of the forest lies in the seeds that germinate and thrive. Ecologists today know that a forest ecosystem is at its best when it sustains the largest variety of age classes and species. So I wonder today: What is our forest made of? How deep, how wide do these roots go?
After much thought, I've decided to create an informal group known as the Louisiana Naturalist Network (LNN) to see if I can't get at the heart of these questions and more. I've begun with a new facebook group that I hope can collect the many faces of this burgeoning community, the young and the old alike.
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| Louisiana Naturalist Network |
The idea is to help people with a variety of nature interests find and recognize each other and share information. Ideally, the group could organize outings and collectively support conservation initiatives--a sort of carrot mob for biodiversity. Yet I would be happy if this group only succeeded in matching one person with one new resource they did not know previously existed. I do think, however, that there is potential for much more and I look forward to seeing what becomes of this simple idea.
When the Louisiana Master Naturalist Program comes into full swing and is ready to give its first classes, I hope naturalists around the state will already know about LMNP and be ready to take advantage of their training. This program, if it succeeds, has the potential to unlock a powerful force in Louisiana because it opens the doors of conservation and place-based education to the average citizen, who may or may not care to ever have a degree in the biological sciences. We need alternative routes to outdoor learning and conservation. We need alternative routes to meeting each other.
Please share your thoughts on this essay below. Where do you work? What is your passion?
yes! learning from our elders and our Elder(flower)s and maybe our Alders. i am a biologist, an outdoorsperson, a birder, a wildlife-watcher, an artist, a photographer, a dancer, a farmer. everything matters in this cycle, and everything is connected. i'm so glad you've created the LNN, and there is this vision to rest on. go forth!
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