Reconciling  Visions for Preserving  the Preserve

by Holly Sletteland

On Saturday, November 19th Audubon hosted another Open House for the public to review our plans for the new addition to Sweet Springs and to take comments and questions from those in attendance.  It had threatened to rain earlier in the day, but by the afternoon the clouds had parted, giving rays of sunshine a chance to break through.  The event was quite well attended.  Over fifty people signed in and I would guess another thirty didn't, but I'm not the best at estimating crowds.  Most of the people there indicated with a show of hands that they were familiar with the project.  Certainly, I had seen many of them before at previous meetings.  But there were also a number of new faces I didn't recognize, who were perhaps learning about the details of the project for the first time. 

I haven't had a chance to go through all of the comments that were collected yet, but I intend to do so soon. All of the board members and me are very interested in learning if there are holes in our plan -things we haven't considered, problems we haven't addressed, opportunities we may have missed, ways to make it a better project.  We will be sifting through the comments to see if new ideas surface that we haven't already heard.  However, having fielded a number of questions yesterday, I noted that they were starting to follow familiar themes.  

People wanted to know if we had considered hawks and owls and monarch butterflies and climate change and herbicide toxicity . . . all perfectly legitimate concerns.  The answer is that we have considered those things, and we feel we are either responsibly mitigating the impact or there is no impact to worry about.  Unfortunately, many people challenge the validity of that assertion, but they don't present any evidence to support their argument. As Dr. Francis Villablanca, professor of wildlife biology at Cal Poly, recently noted when we were discussing monarch butterflies at Sweet Springs, those who oppose the removal of the trees are not entitled to a double standard when it comes to scientific evidence.

It is fair to ask us to provide data, for example, that indicate that monarchs are not currently overwintering at Sweet Springs and therefore the removal of trees will not impact them. However, having presented data proving that they have not been overwintering there for over a decade, it is not fair to ignore that data and insist that they are. Nor is it fair to make completely unsubstantiated allegations and expect Audubon to take the time to disprove them. For example, the recent contention that somehow the removal of eucalyptus trees is going to harm the Marine Protected Area (MPA) in the estuary has absolutely no basis in fact that I am aware of.  I trust that the experts at the Morro Bay National Estuary Program (MBNEP) or the San Luis Obispo Science and Ecosystem Alliance (SLOSEA) would have been the first to point out any potential harm if it was even a remote possibility. 

Of course, not all issues lend themselves to a scientific response.  Several people noted that they truly love the eucalyptus trees and will be absolutely "devastated" and "heartbroken" if they are removed.  I don't have a satisfactory answer to give them.  I wish I did.  I can certainly empathize and can agree that the trees can be breathtakingly beautiful.  I actually have two photographs of the eucalyptus at Sweet Springs from across the bay hanging on the wall of my office.  Both are very dear to me and were taken by the wonderful local photographer Marlin Harms.  But in my heart of hearts, I keep saying to myself, this isn't about us.  Or maybe it is, but not in the sense of satisfying our desires for a pretty view, muffling noise from the street, or providing protection from the sun or wind.  Rather it is about showing a little humility and acknowledging the overwhelming impact we have had on the biosphere and the myriad of creatures, large and small, that are forced to share a diminishing pie with us.  

It is about the conviction, in the words of E.O. Wilson, that "human physical and spiritual health depends on sustaining the planet in a relatively unaltered state. When we debase the global environment and extinguish the variety of life, we are dismantling the support system that is too complex to understand, let alone replace, in the foreseeable future."  It is about, in the oft quoted words of Aldo Leopold,  "The last word in ignorance is the man who says of an animal or plant: "What good is it?" If the land mechanism as a whole is good, then every part is good, whether we understand it or not. If the biota, in the course of aeons, has built something we like but do not understand, then who but a fool would discard seemingly useless parts? To keep every cog and wheel is the first precaution of intelligent tinkering."  

It is about making sure that the Morro shoulderband snail and the California sea blite, both federally endangered, don't go the way of the Morro kangaroo rat – last seen over 40 years ago.  It is about insuring that the scores of threatened plants and animals, from Coulter's goldfields to silvery legless lizards, have suitable habitat in which to thrive.  It is about preventing species that we consider "common" today, from the California quail to purple sand verbena, from becoming scarce and in need of listing tomorrow.  It is about admitting we have we have created an impoverished planet and about trying to make amends.  It is about doing more than just paying lip service to the Endangered Species Act.

I hope that someday those who currently oppose our plans will come to love the dark, shady canopy of coast live oaks lining the edges of the preserve, just as they do the eucalyptus today. I am puzzled why the loss of the native flora and fauna – including millions of acres of oaks across the state since the 1800's – doesn't register with them the same way it does with me. And I hope that one day too, I will get a chance to fully enjoy the tall canopy of a native eucalyptus forest in Australia and the habitat it provides to koalas, wallabies, and flying foxes. The only thing that will be difficult is reorienting my thinking to view the California poppy as the invasive pest that it is in the land down under, instead of a source of continual delight in its home range. 

iWilson, E. O. 1996. In Search of Nature. Washington D.C.: Island Press. pg. 190
iiLeopold, A.  1993. Round River. New York: Oxford University Press. pgs. 145-146.
iiiPavlik, B., P.C. Muick, S. Johnson and M. Popper. 1991. The Oaks of California.Cachuma Pres: Los Olivos.
pgs 108, 111.

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