Up from deep cool burrow
Inside delicate dune
You see me.
I see you.
Pale shell traversing white sands
Blending colors changing
In warmth of golden sun
Archive for month: February, 2014
These past weeks, I have attended class “on” The Indian River Lagoon.
Twisting and winding through mangrove islets, its brackish waters extend and run parallel with this area of Atlantic shoreline for 156 miles. It houses some of the most unique and diverse biological ecosystems that merged together with Mosquito and Banana Lagoons forms one of the largest estuaries in North America.
Over the last 100 years, human impact has put great stress on this delicate environment.
A particular area of concern has been the degradation of the Lagoon’s water quality.
Thankfully, conservation efforts and projects aimed at wetland restoration, sea grass mapping, as well as capturing storm water sediment have led the way in the saving of this extraordinarily vital Floridian habitat.
Another such effort to preserve these nutrient rich waters that continues to support thousands of species of plants, fish, shell fish, birds, as well as hundreds of dolphins and manatees is Oyster Reef Restoration.
For thousands of years the Oyster has filtered and purified these waters, battling pollution. Fortresses built of layers upon layers of shell deposit create a reef system that helps to bolster and stabilize the Lagoon’s coastline against erosive boat traffic and commercial over harvest.
The Marine Discovery Center partners with many proactive conservation organizations in area counties including The Nature Conservancy
Using eco friendly mesh materials, Oyster shells are tied to “mats” that are anchored down in the shallow estuary waters. In about a year’s time, floating Oyster larvae that is “welcomed” home- forms sturdy foundations for new reefs.
That was the determined thought I embraced when I set off for this southern shore.
I would find the similar bird species that summer at Fishers Island, create close-up and candid opportunities here (and now) that will help to better identify these same bird types later back home.
So it was really no surprise that my first subject I would follow down this sandy stretch was the Ruddy Turnstone-a chunky Sandpiper (once classified with family “Plover”) named for flipping stones and pebbles while foraging.
Here, in winter their probing beaks search for bits of mollusk, snails, and crustaceans.
I observe Turnstones occasionally on South Beach’s tidal flats and up at the Big Club Beach during the warmer months. Typically routing through seaweed, pecking aggressively sometimes for sand flies.
I note that different shore birds in this populated beach environment are more tolerant and habituated to human activity, allowing me a glimpse into the social behavior of these particular birds of Ruddy feather, so I join the flock for a minute or two.
A few months back when I enrolled in The Master Naturalist Program, and before I left Fishers for New Smyrna Beach, it was my personal intention to continue weekly monitoring off Island. Despite the difference in natural settings and ecosystems, I wanted to share with students that one can be a naturalist and share local traditional knowledge anywhere.
Here I can observe and count local Brown Pelicans in the colony that inhabits a nearby mangrove isle. After a week of learning the rhythm of a different beach altogether, I spied a neighborhood Gopher Tortoise that emerges regularly from shrubs buffering a parking lot. I determine River Otter remain elusive while still creating a well worn path to the lagoon. It’s noted here as well that invasive plants have historically taken root-a Blue Heron rests in an Australian pine.
There is quite a bit of discussion in the Master Naturalist course about ethics- within educational outreach, and interpretation.
While sharing my respect and enthusiasm specifically for Fishers Island with future Island Sentinels (students) has been seemingly effortless-thinking, what’s not to love about our Island’s outdoor uniqueness? I share with them also that it’s really about the “outreach” and how others interpret that.
Basically, “if you talk the talk you’ve got to walk the walk.”
For instance, back on Fishers Island as stewards making sure we stay our distance and be still while monitoring seals at Hungry Point-it’s illegal to disrupt their haul out. Or being aware of countless balloons that wash ashore might have us NOT “invite” balloons to the next community celebration. Even by riding our bikes or walking to the beach we know we can cut down on invasive gas emissions locally
So student Island Sentinels actually become teachers and their passion for wildlife conservation and land preservation on a tiny Island can indeed lead to positive, far reaching steps – even globally.
Wading in winter’s gray
Somber plumage
Mirrored on shore
“Pill-pill-willet”
Echoed on shore
Again “Pill-pill-willet”
Waiting on summer’s days
*One of the largest of shorebirds, clothed here in winter feathers, with a striking black and white winged pattern seen mostly in flight. Marketing “tasty eggs” (John James Audubon) nearly decimated the species till the 1918 Migratory Bird Treaty Act helped the Willet’s return.
I haven’t sighted a Snowy Owl on the beach yet, but I hear that indeed Floridians in Jacksonville have! With historic winter weather patterns I ask myself “Has the Arctic Circle come full?”
Keeping with the winter theme though, the Snowy Egret has graced me with its elegance in the early mornings while I monitor the low tidal flats.
A member of the heron family, this bird breeds as far north as Maine, and migrates even to Central America. The Seminole culture referred to the slender legged and statuesque egret as “Yellow Snippers”- a wise and determined spirit displaying balance while walking into deep waters without fear.
This particular local bird IS wise, declaring its residency, staying put here on the beach, awaiting trapped minnows, crabs, and unsuspecting surfcasters -despite Climate Change Snowy Egret is putting its best foot forward…
Well before “Fishers Island” was penned on any map, the Pequot Indians called their summer hunting grounds Munnawtawkin or “Place of Observation”.
I can imagine centuries ago, these indigenous people paddling into West Harbor with the days catch or collecting various sea bird’s eggs from the stony spits looking north and even standing atop bluffs facing south forecasting the arrival of a turbulent gale.
I imagine the Pequot Indians were the original and authentic master naturalists. They lived the rhythm of Munnawtawkin and shared their local traditional knowledge with tribal members and even settlers on the distant mainland.
Well, with all this imagining in the dead of winter it came to me that now was the time for me to better become a master naturalist myself. And so to continue to share the passion of marine conservation and island preservation with future Island Sentinels(all students), I am going back to school myself.
Through University of Florida and The Marine Discovery Center in New Smyrna Beach, I will dive deep into Coastal Studies in the Masters Naturalist Program. And while I am busy taking notes these next months, I hope to share a few of my own- from the field.
I am grateful to both the Fishers Island community and our school as Lisa Eiriksson, Ace Ahrens and Olivia Backhaus continue to monitor and observe trends on “Munnawtawkin”. For it is outside in their own unique island classroom that they will glean knowledge from Nature’s best.