By Jane Braxton Little

Laurie Wayburn stands quietly in a forest glade surrounded by towering coastal redwoods. A breeze wafts the five-fingered ferns at her feet and ruffles the flat needles in the branches overhead. Wayburn closes her eyes, tilts her head and listens.

For 10 consecutive years, she has heard the raspy hoots of northern spotted owls from this site at Van Eck Forest, near Arcata on the northern California coast. Last year, she detected both a male and female. The presence of this endangered species, the focus of a decade of timber wars, has inspired her to develop management innovations that restore habitat and watersheds while producing high-quality timber.

“It’s our responsibility as landowners to come up with solutions so these species are there for our kids,” says Wayburn, president of Pacific Forest Trust, which manages the 2,200-acre forest. Lately, however, no one has heard the Van Eck spotted owls — not for months.

The silence here resonates ominously across the country. From Maine to Arizona, America’s forest species are in a steady slide towards extinction. Scientists predict that more than 4,600 native plant and animal species will be gone by 2030, an evolutionary blink of the eye. They join species worldwide that are currently disappearing at as much as 1,000 times the expected natural rate. More than 40 percent of the world’s amphibians are threatened along with 25 percent of mammal species, according to a 2010 study coordinated by the International Union for Conservation of Nature. The list of the doomed varies from grizzly bears and other wide-ranging megafauna to etonia rosemary, a member of the mint family limited to two remote sites in northeastern Florida when it was discovered. Losses are projected in forest watersheds across the lower 48 states, but they are expected to hit the Appalachian Mountains and southeastern region particularly hard according to a recent “Forests on the Edge” report for the USDA Forest Service. Here, habitat lost to housing development is placing up to 90 percent of the local species at risk, says co-author Susan Stein, a researcher with the agency’s Cooperative Forestry staff.

The burden of keeping threatened species alive rests heavily on private forest owners. From multi-thousand-acre stands to modest mom-and-pop operations, private timberlands in the lower 48 states harbor 60 percent of the forest species scientists expect to decline or disappear within the next 20 years. Making a living has never been easy for these landowners, who hold 35 percent of all forestland. Today, they face a disproportionate responsibility for the future of thousands of wildlife species.

Historically, forest owners have not welcomed at-risk species on their property. They viewed endangered plants and animals as a potential management expense and a threat to their land values. Following passage of the 1973 Endangered Species Act, some landowners actively destroyed habit in a response dubbed “shoot, shovel and shut-up.” By increasing timber harvest rotations and cutting younger trees, they could discourage — even eliminate — old-growth dependant species such as the red-cockaded woodpecker or Florida panther.

Today, a variety of programs offer incentives for conserving wildlife. Conservation easements, in use since the 1930s, are permanent agreements that restrict future activities on the land to protect its conservation values. The landowner sells or donates the development rights to a land trust, often qualifying for additional income through a tax reduction. More than a dozen federal conservation programs assist forest owners with improving forest health, soil and water quality. Some offer technical assistance, some funding. At least 16 states have tax credits or other incentives for forest owners to steward their land. These programs are designed to encourage long-term conservation, including at-risk species management.

Discovering an endangered species has a definite impact on forest management, but it doesn’t have to put a stop to productivity, says Ted Beauvais, assistant director of Co-operative Forests for the USDA Forest Service. Incentive programs can help alleviate the burden of timber harvest restrictions due to an at-risk species. “Most forest landowners want to be good stewards and obey the law,” Beauvais says. “I have to believe their efforts will make a difference.”

RETAIN, SUSTAIN & GAIN
For Wayburn, managing forests for endangered species and enjoying economic returns are wholly complementary. The old paradigm was choosing between following the traditional economic model or managing the forest as a park — “a choice between rape and chastity,” she says. Van Eck Forest is pursuing a third path: management that works for conservation and makes it a contributor to the economic bottom line.

Wayburn walks along a two-track path under a canopy of redwoods and Douglas firs. The soil is moist and spongy. Banana slugs cling to ferns beside trunks streaked with black bear scratches. Chainsaws whine in the distance. All of Van Eck Forest is protected by a conservation easement that guides forest management, allowing sustainable logging but prohibiting development. The easement gives Wayburn the ability to harvest saw logs and to thin stands for future logging with the confidence that she can continue to plan for-profit activities without getting shut down by endangered species regulations.

Recently, she entered into a Safe Harbor Agreement with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service that rewards Van Eck for restoring spotted owl habitat. In exchange for contributing to owl recovery, the agreement removes barriers to future operations. That gives Wayburn the additional certainty to harvest timber and manage the forest without fear of further federal restrictions. Van Eck is producing between 15,000 and 18,000 board feet per acre, and the volume is going up with every harvest.

Along with logging, Van Eck earns income by reducing carbon emissions. It is the first emissions reductions project registered under the state forest protocols designed to help California meet its ambitious goals for decreasing greenhouse gases. Industries and other sources that emit more carbon dioxide than allowed pay Van Eck for storing carbon in trees and soil. Depending on the market, the forest often earns more income from carbon than sawlogs.

The synergy between economics, habitat restoration and climate can tip the financial balance for landowners everywhere, Wayburn says: “This is not boutique forest management. Anybody can take advantage of what we’re doing on Van Eck. It’s suitable for anyone who wants to be in forestry for the long term.”

Two hundred miles to the south, The Conservation Fund is taking a similar approach to managing Garcia Forest. The 24,000-acre redwood and Douglas fir forest had been heavily cut by 2004, when the Virginia-based fund bought it. The long-term goal is to create a sustainable forest, protected from development by a conservation easement. While restoring the redwood stand, the fund is harvesting smaller trees to pay for forest upkeep and provide local jobs. It is also earning income through carbon storage as the second and largest forest registered in California’s climate change program.

Since the fund began managing the Garcia watershed, scientists have been finding endangered and unusual species in streams and forest openings. Jennifer Carah, a field scientist, was doing a routine snorkel in a tributary to the Garcia River when she beheld a mass of juvenile coho salmon wriggling in the cold coastal stream. The endangered anadromous fish had not been seen there in decades. This summer, Carah found coho in numerous creeks where scientists had placed wood jams to increase stream complexity and attract salmon. Another rare find on the Garcia is the coastal tailed frog, spotted by an aquatic biologist in 2009. The inch-long amphibian dragging quarter-inch genitalia had never been seen that far south in California’s coastal watershed. And in July, botanists found two rare clovers, one of them on the federal endangered list.

These discoveries are exciting, says Evan Smith, the fund’s vice president for forest land acquisitions and finance. But he’s hesitant to attribute them to recent forest management. “The land is resilient,” he says. “If we just give it a chance, it’s more dynamic and complicated than we think.”

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE?
Like other forest managers, Evans worries about whether private forests can conserve enough habitat soon enough to make a difference to at-risk species.

Landowners are under even more pressure today than they were when Congress passed the Endangered Species Act. For the last two decades, the United States has been losing more than a million acres of timberland a year, an astonishing average of nearly two acres a minute. The Forest Service projects that more than 57 million acres of private forests — an area bigger than all of New England — will experience significant increases in development in coming decades, further endangering rare species.

Globally, logging and forest loss account for a whopping 17 percent of greenhouse gas emissions — more than from all planes, trains and automobiles on Earth. Cutting trees reduces the amount of carbon naturally stored in their leaves, trunks and root systems, while burning forest fuels actively contributes to emissions.

In the United States, the dramatic decline in timberlands is primarily due to development: housing, schools, shopping centers and parking lots to meet the demands of a growing population. Wildfire, insects and disease are also taking a toll on the habitat available to at-risk species. The collapse of the housing industry over the last three years has offered some respite from the unprecedented losses earlier this century, creating a window for conservation. Several of the largest recent forest transactions nationwide have been for conservation, including the 320,000 acres of the Montana Legacy (see American Forests, Winter 2009) and 105,000 acres in New York’s Adirondacks.

Development pressure hasn’t died; it’s just gotten very quiet, says Peter Stein, managing director of the Lyme Timber Co., a New Hampshire-based investment firm focused on lands with conservation values. “You’d have to be a little crazy to be optimistic, but we are seeing land trusts conserve a great deal of land,” Stein says.

No one expects the development lull to last. Conservation groups nationwide are focused on protecting critical ecosystems that increase the scale of the lands they protect. In the process, they are developing innovative alliances and programs.

In Texas, a partnership among ranchers, Environmental Defense Fund and the U.S. Army began as an effort to protect the golden-cheeked warbler in six central Texas counties. Today, it encompasses 30 counties — a total of approximately 20 million acres — and provides habitat to the black-capped vireo as well as the warbler. Fort Hood, the nation’s largest Army base, is home to 5,000 pairs of endangered golden-cheeked warblers, around 50 percent of the known population of the only bird that nests exclusively in Texas.

Army officials have conserved as much warbler habitat as possible on the base. With active warfare increasing the pressure for live-fire training, they began looking for a way to invest in conservation outside the base to use some of the base habitat for training. The result is the Recovery Credit System, a unique multi-partner program designed to expand warbler protections on adjacent private lands. Landowners with eligible habitat bid to put their land into 10- to 25-year conservation lease agreements managed for the warbler. Fort Hood buys the lease, which provides landowners with a new income source. Much like the carbon storage program in California, the Army earns “credits” that offset the impacts of using warbler habitat for short-term training on the base.

The program appeals to landowners because it brings in revenue but does not commit their land to the permanent limits of a conventional conservation easement, says David Wolfe, a senior scientist with Environmental Defense Fund. As a market-based approach, the Recovery Credit System has potential in other parts of the country. It has attracted developers in Utah, confronted with managing the threatened Utah prairie dog, and Camp Lejeune, a Marine base in North Carolina, where longleaf pine habitat hosts the endangered red-cockaded woodpecker and the threatened gopher tortoise. “We’re confident this approach gets us the scale we need to positively impact species,” Wolfe says.

IF WE BUILD IT…
The many programs offering incentives for land conservation are having an effect. The number of conservation easements has exploded from around 28,000 acres in 1980 to nearly 18 million acres today. The American Forest Foundation tallies 3.5 million acres of private forestland improved or conserved in 2010. Still, the number of landowners who participated in one of the programs available totaled just one percent of America’s 10 million family forest owners. And while these incentives are clearly helpful, they may not always be available.

In an increasingly polarized Congress, some legislators are challenging the Environmental Protection Agency, which enforces many environmental regulations including the Endangered Species Act. Others are threatening to slash or eliminate funding to conservation programs.

In areas where deforestation has taken a devastating toll on habitat, the most effective conservation is sometimes the most direct: digging holes and planting trees. Since 1990, American Forest’s Global ReLeaf program has planted nearly 40 million trees to restore forest ecosystems. Some of them are in the Michoacán highlands of Mexico, host to monarch butterflies. After flying some 3,000 miles from Northeastern United States and Canada to central Mexico, the monarchs winter in local oyamel fir and conifer trees. By the early 1990s, this habitat was largely cut over, replaced by plowed fields and bare slopes (see American Forests, Winter 2009). The deforestation was so threatening to the winter hibernation habitat that the North American monarch migration has been classified as an endangered biological phenomenon.

Recognizing a potential crisis, in 1997, the La Cruz Habitat Protection Project (LCHPP) began distributing trees to small landowners and communities. It has planted more than five million native cedars, oyamel firs and six species of pines, nearly one million of these through support from American Forests. What’s good for the butterflies is just as good for local landowners, says Sue Sill, executive director of LCHPP. The subsistence farmers, who have lived among the butterflies for many generations, are enjoying multiple benefits from the trees they are planting: stabilized soil,
a higher water table and income from timber sales.

“We measure success in what we see,” says Sill. “The mountains are becoming greener. The butterflies are thriving. The landowners and communities are pleased.”

Improving forest habitat here and across the United States offers some respite for at-risk species. However, as human populations continue to grow and development consumes more forestlands, success will require an even greater long-term commitment. It will require innovative management and partnerships. And it will require patience.

Wayburn still has not heard a northern spotted owl hoot from the Van Eck redwoods this fall. That doesn’t disturb her. After a century of logging with little regard to the habitat for these and other forest species, restoring complexity to Van Eck Forest will take time, she says. She is confident that reinvesting profits from logging and carbon storage will gradually return the land to a place where owls will feel welcome.

“The owls will be back,” Wayburn says with certainty. And the endangered, elusive marbled murrelet? “Yes! In a hundred years.”

Jane Braxton Little has published stories in Audubon, Scientific American and Utne Reader.
She writes from Plumas County, California.

The post Endangered Forest Species appeared first on American Forests.

By Carrie Madren

Straddling both land and sea, mangrove forests are biologically rich coast keepers, providing sanctuary for diverse species, nurseries for marine life, habitat for birds and protection for shorelines. Mangrove forests — wooded, tropical wetlands — buffer the transition from land to sea and offer ecological benefits to both. But over the past few decades, global mangrove forests have been shrinking faster than the scientific community realized.

Satellite images published last year offered the most comprehensive, detailed, global mangrove database to date, showing the total worldwide mangrove area more accurately than ever before: 53,190 square miles, about the size of Arkansas, in the year 2000. That was nearly 12 percent smaller than previously thought. Almost half the world’s old-growth mangrove forests have been lost over the past 50 years, and we’re continuing to lose mangroves at a rate of roughly one percent (about 578 square miles) per year.

More than a third of the world’s mangroves are believed to have disappeared between 1980 and 2000, mostly due to the rise of industrial shrimp farming and coastal development. In China alone, the last 50 years have seen a 70 percent loss of mangrove forests. In the U.S., protected mangroves along Florida’s coasts and the tip of Louisiana are faring better, with higher protections than mangroves in other countries.

Of the remaining mangroves, only about 6.9 percent are officially protected. This was confirmed by the satellite image study published in 2010, led by scientist Chandra Giri of the U.S. Geological Survey (USGS) Earth Resources Observation and Science Center in South Dakota, whose team studied the images alongside maps of protected areas.

Pressures on mangrove forests come from all angles. On land, human destruction comes in the form of clearcutting for fish farms and filling in for development. From the sea, rising water levels and temperature due to climate change interrupt intertidal processes and expand ranges. To understand the impact that these changes are having on mangrove ecosystems and what their results could be, we first have to understand why these wetland forests are among the most valuable and sensitive ecosystems in the world.

PORTRAIT OF A MANGROVE GROVE

Around the world, mangrove species come in dozens of shapes and sizes, suited to grow in just as many habitats and tide levels. In Florida and the Caribbean, red mangroves form canopied canals over spindly prop roots. In Australia, tiny, knee-high mangrove bushes thrive in arid deserts. While the Western Hemisphere has only eight species, some 60 species grow in the Indo-Pacific region. Asia has the lion’s share with 42 percent of the world’s mangroves, but sizable percentages also grow in Africa, North and Central America, Oceania and South America.

Like other wetlands, people have historically despised mangrove wetlands because of the smell, the mosquitoes and the flies, explains Candy Feller, ecologist at the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center in Edgewater, Maryland. Feller’s affinity for the unusual ecosystems began in the 1970s when, sent to Belize as a scientific illustrator, she fell in love with mangroves. “I’ve always really loved swamps: that wet, really spooky world,” she says.

Despite some of their less appealing qualities, swampy mangrove stands provide valuable ecosystem services. Mangrove prop roots create rich, colorful nurseries for fish and marine life; above, branches offer habitat for birds and other wildlife. Like other types of wetlands, mangroves also slow runoff coming from the land. According to Feller, they act as a sieve for the sediments and as a scrubber for the nutrients that can destroy coral and sea grass beds.

Mangroves can also act as a buffer from intense storms by absorbing some of the wave energy of tsunamis, hurricanes and storm surges. Many realized the importance of mangroves after the 2004 Southeast Asia tsunami, which devastated coastal communities, killing more than 225,000 and displacing close to a million people. Because so many old-growth mangrove forests had been leveled in the area, waves encountered no resistance and caused more damage than if there had been a healthy mangrove coastline.

Lastly, mangroves may be among the most productive forests on Earth, sequestering carbon at a higher rate than other types of forest. A 2011 study by scientists with the USDA Forest Service, the University of Helsinki and the Center for International Forestry Research found that mangroves can store as much as five times more carbon than other types of forests, including tropical rainforests.

MANGROVES UNDER ATTACK

The five-year, 2010 study based on satellite images broke ground as the world’s most comprehensive mangrove assessment to date. Lead scientist Giri and an international team analyzed more than 1,000 LanSat scenes using digital image classification techniques to create a more accurate worldwide map of mangroves.

“Our study was a systematic study using satellite data for the year 2000,” explains Giri, whereas earlier estimates were based on a wide variety of old and new data collected from individual countries by the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations. Some countries had complete, accurate data while data from others was incomplete or vague. Some of the previous data revealed only the land area of mangroves and not where they grew spatially. The satellite images allowed the team to create a far more comprehensive picture.

In the decade since the images were taken, the total area of mangroves has diminished even further, a fact confirmed by studies, the vast amounts of new shrimp farms cropping up and even anecdotal accounts. While Giri, who is originally from Nepal, was completing his master’s and doctorate in Thailand, he saw mangroves disappear rapidly to aquaculture and farming; the new farms would often be abandoned after two or three years as they became less productive. “It’s very hard to grow anything on that land — it’s acidic,” Giri says. “I witnessed that when I was a grad student and said ‘I need to do something.’”

Industrial shrimp farming — the number one cause of mangrove loss — exploded in the late 1970s and ’80s. “Mostly in Southeast Asia, the coastal areas of these countries have been carved up into farms,” Feller says, though Latin American countries also have extensive shrimp farming.

Mangroves also occupy prime waterfront real estate — land that developers covet for resorts, vacation homes and coastal destinations. Since mangroves accumulate peat — networks of fine root systems — developers must fill in the cleared area with sediment, often pumped in from ocean reef areas, which further contributes to the breakdown of the original ecosystem.

In mid-20^th-century Florida, many mangrove wetlands were impounded and flooded to control mosquitoes. “It killed the mangroves because they need a fluctuating water level,” Feller says. At one site, a late-1970s hurricane blew a hole in the berm, which was later opened to allow normal tidal exchange, and the red mangroves returned. But rising waters in the last 60 years — about two millimeters a year, totaling 12 centimeters over the last 60 years — means a smaller area for mangroves as they return to the site.

“In a mangrove swamp, 12 centimeters is a lot of sea level rise,” says Feller, whose team recently won a grant from NASA and The National Science Foundation to investigate how mangroves are responding to climate change.

Around the world, climate change is re-drawing the lines of where mangroves can survive. As sea levels rise, mangroves will naturally move upland, if they have the space, explains Alfredo Quarto of the Mangrove Action Project. Buffer zones have been taken over by roads, buildings and other developments, so mangrove forests have nowhere to retreat. “They’re really between a rock and a hard place, in a sense,” Quarto says.

In addition to retreating upland, mangroves are migrating as growing zones shift northward. Researchers at the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center are tracking more than 100 miles of Florida coastline, where mangrove trees are gaining a foothold in salt marshes to the north. The typical transition from tropical mangrove to temperate salt marsh is at about 30 degrees latitude in both the Northern and Southern Hemispheres; in the Northern Hemisphere, that’s around St. Augustine in Florida. At that 30-degree latitude, mangroves and salt marshes intermingle in about a two-degree latitudinal band.

“As the climate is warming, the conditions are such that these little plants can get there and get established,” says Feller, who has noticed young mangroves taking hold north of St. Augustine. Some of these northward-drifting mangroves are becoming established enough to survive killing frosts.

In her office, Feller points to a photo taken at Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge (near Cape Canaveral) of a sign that illustrates only salt marsh species. “Now, about 50 percent of what you see is mangrove,” she says, a change that has happened since the sign was created. “It’s happening faster than I think people realize.”

Exactly how climate change will affect mangroves is a question that researchers are working to understand. “We know it’s happening,” Feller says, “but how will it affect the fish or nutri­ent cycling or the ability to protect shorelines from wave energy?”

HOPE ON THE HORIZON

With mangroves under fire, our best bet is to try to conserve what we have left, says Quarto. Countries could better enforce conservation in protected intertidal zones and preserve currently unprotected areas.

Among the best things that individuals can do to preserve mangrove forests around the world is to eat fewer imported shrimp. “With less consumption, there’s less expansion of the industry,” Quarto says. If you’re going to eat shrimp, he advises, buy homegrown shrimp from Louisiana and Alaska, rather than imported shrimp, which also tend to be loaded with antibiotics.

While protecting existing mangroves, we can also restore mangrove forests, which will yield the bonus benefit of restoring ocean health — including fisheries and coral reefs — by improving water quality from runoff. But it’s important to remember that mangrove ecosystems must be restored in the right way, taking into account the area’s freshwater hydrology, ecology and land forms and planting a diverse variety of appropriate, native species. Any successful mangrove restoration project must consider incoming freshwater sources and flow and their balance with the nearby sea.

Carrie Madren writes from Great Falls, Virginia, and can be reached at camadren@gmail.com.

Planting Mangroves

Working with the Putian Green Sprout Coastal Wetlands Research Center in China, American Forests Global ReLeaf has planted more than 600,000 mangrove seedlings in a number of critical sites on the Chinese coast. To these coastal communities, mangroves represent environmental health, inland safety from storms, habitat for migratory birds and economic stability for the local fishermen that rely on the rich variety of aquatic life supported within the mangroves’ underwater root system. Unfortunately, over the past 50 years, 70 percent of China’s mangrove forests have been lost, making restoration projects like this one all the more vital to coastal ecosystems and communities.

In addition to planting seedlings, the project raised public awareness of the importance of mangrove ecosystems to the health of the local community. Working with local partners, we organized an educational workshop on mangrove ecosystems and reached out to 10 different schools in the region. A number of students took part in the program, even volunteering to take part in the planting itself.

Learn how you can support Global ReLeaf projects like this at www.AmericanForests.org/ways-to-give.

The post Mangroves in the Mist appeared first on American Forests.

By Kimberly Button

There aren’t too many national forests where you have to be on the lookout for both alligators and bears. It’s also unusual to be able to swim in a pool where 60 million gallons of water are bursting through the Earth’s surface underneath you. Add to that a relatively close proximity to the home of Mickey Mouse and the most visited theme parks in the world and is it any wonder that Ocala National Forest is the most popular national forest in Florida?

Located north of Orlando in the central part of the state, Ocala National Forest is the southernmost forest in the continental United States. Established in 1908, it is one of the oldest national forests east of the Mississippi River. Its nearly 383,000 acres also happen to protect the world’s largest contiguous area of sand pine scrub forest. These vegetative islands of elevated sandy ridges have desert-like conditions that support only the hardiest of species, such as the sand pine tree. Yet for all of these superlatives, Ocala National Forest is perhaps best known among visitors and locals for something entirely different — its natural springs.

There are four bubbling freshwater springs in the forest that amaze visitors with their crystal-clear clarity and constant, year-round temperature of 72 degrees. The springs are an enchanting attraction for out-of-state visitors who have never seen anything like them, and even though Florida has among the largest number of springs anywhere on Earth, they can still be a little-known enigma for residents, too.

“I’ve always lived in Florida, and I didn’t realize that we even had springs before I started working here,” says Tonee Davis, a natural resource specialist with Ocala National Forest. “The first time that I saw them I thought, ‘Wow! These are gorgeous.’ The fact that the federal government owns these springs and is protecting them for future generations so that they’re not loved to death is amazing.”

While the springs are an integral part of the state’s ecosystems, they can also serve as great spots for recreation — when treated with respect. The springs were formed when limestone layers in the earth started to break down after millions of years of acidic rain. When the limestone finally dissolved, sinkholes formed and created caves, underground channels and springs from which groundwater flows out to the Earth’s surface. Springs are rated on the amount of water that flows out of them each day — from Eighth Magnitude springs, which release small amounts of water, to First Magnitude springs, which discharge more than 64.6 million gallons a day. Ocala National Forest has two First Magnitude springs.

The springs are popular watering holes for all ages, whether for just floating around on a tube or the more active pursuits of snorkeling and scuba diving. Some people even believe that soaking in the cool springs can fix what ails you. Bob Esposito, who moved from Connecticut to Silver Springs, Florida, just a few miles outside of Ocala National Forest, comes regularly throughout the year to bathe in the springs. “In all honesty, I always feel better when I come out of the water, at least aches and pains wise,” he says.

Each of the springs is a little different and offers distinct opportunities for enjoying the waters. Juniper Springs has a terraced, circular wall surrounding the smaller pool, which is located adjacent to an old mill house and water wheel built in the 1930s by the Civilian Conservation Corps to provide electricity to the campground. A short walk from Juniper Springs to Fern Hammock
Springs, which is located within the same recreation area though is not open for swimming, offers ideal viewing spots of the boils — areas in the Earth’s crust where the water is gushing out to the surface. These white sandy areas that stand out in the otherwise crystal-blue waters are constantly bubbling and look like sandy magma rising to the surface. Frequent visitors know about the resident alligator, which can usually be safely seen from a raised bridge in Fern Hammock Springs every day, offering a great opportunity to say that you have actually seen an alligator in Florida.

Silver Glen Springs and Alexander Springs, which are both First Magnitude springs, offer much larger swimming areas. Salt Springs, though not considered a First Magnitude spring, is a larger recreation area, too, and is especially popular due to the adjacent campground, which offers full hookups. These springs have a more wide-open, beach-type feel to them. Alexander Springs are the only springs within Ocala National Forest in which scuba diving is allowed.

Canoeing and kayaking are another popular way to explore the more than 600 lakes, rivers and springs in Ocala National Forest. The major springs have runs flowing out of them, including a run out of Silver Glen Springs to Lake George, Florida’s second largest lake. Ocklawaha River and St. Johns River, which both flow north, border the boundaries of the forest and also offer plenty of water activities.

Among the most famous and popular runs in the forest is Juniper Run, which starts just below Juniper Springs. You might get a little more than just tranquil beauty when you set off on this run, though. “We call it ‘couple’s therapy’ because you have got to be willing to work together and see how to assess situations to make it through,” says Davis. “It is in a congressionally designated wilderness area, so no mechanical equipment can be brought in. If a tree falls across the path, it has got to stay where it lays, so there are plenty of unique challenges to get down the run and try to figure out how to get over a tree and other situations.” The seven-mile run has been named as one of America’s top 25 canoe runs by Reserve America.

Yet, among all of the recreational opportunities available anywhere within Ocala National Forest, fishing is by far the most popular. “We were kind of surprised when we started doing surveys to discover that fishing is the most popular activity among visitors,” Davis says. “We are constantly sold out of the fishing guides because they are so popular.”

Fueling the fishing craze is the opportunity to garner a big catch, especially bass, which are quite common in Lake George and Lake Kerr. If your idea of a great day of fishing means a few quiet hours of solitude, then Ocala is the place for you. The myriad of lakes, ponds, rivers and streams ensures that “you can pretty much be guaranteed a place by yourself if you want,” Davis says.

Not every element of recreation is on the water in Ocala National Forest. There is also plenty to do on dry land. Most of the land throughout the forest is known for being extremely dry and sandy. These harsh conditions limit the types of vegetation and wildlife that can survive, creating a group of endemic species that are uniquely adapted to the area. Sand pines are the most common trees in this scrub ecosystem, though pockets of longleaf pine can also be found. Saw palmetto and Florida rosemary co-exist with endangered species such as scrub lupine to fill out the understory of the forest. The threatened Florida scrub-jay, which lives only in Florida’s scrub habitats, is among the unique animal species that you can witness in this type of land. The scrub pine ecosystem, found primarily in Florida, is one of the oldest ecosystems in the state and also the most endangered; a majority of the ecosystem has already been lost to development. Yet, visitors to Ocala National Forest can enjoy hiking through the largest tract left in the world.

On most hiking opportunities throughout the forest, you just need to look up to see the noted sand pine trees towering against a backdrop of clouds and blue sky. The trees can grow up to 40 feet, but typically only survive around 50 years due to their shallow root systems. Florida’s unique flora and fauna can be found on any of Ocala National Forest’s miles of dayhiking and backpacking trails, which include nearly 100 miles of Florida Trail, a National Park Service-designated National Scenic Trail.

Another notable hiking trail is The Yearling Trail, a historic stretch of land that inspired Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings’ Pulitzer Prize-winning book, The Yearling. A small but hardy group of individuals used to live in the longleaf pine areas of what is now Ocala in the mid to late 1800s, until the population started dwindling and the area was eventually abandoned in 1935. Among them was the Reuben Long family. The last two residents of the remote region were Calvin and Mary Long, who regaled Rawlings with the true story of nursing a deer from a fawn. The stories of life in the rough lands of this region inspired Rawlings’ novel — later made into a movie, which was actually filmed in the forest, starring Gregory Peck and Jane Wyman. Though the movie sets are not on the trail, many aspects of the Longs’ life are now points of interest along the hike, including the Long family cemetery and Long home sites.

Another hiking trail with an unusual twist is Lake Eaton Sinkhole Trail, where you climb stairs down into the dry sinkhole and see how the forest’s vegetation starts to change. As you descend about 80 feet down, the typical dry and sandy land segues into richer, moister soil that can support hardwood plants such as dogwood and live oak trees inside this natural phenomenon.

Of course, some people enjoy exploring the forest on four wheels rather than two feet, and there are plenty of trails set aside for motorized vehicles. In fact, Ocala National Forest is one of the state’s premier places for off-roading adventures. There are more than 80 miles of trails for four-wheel-drive vehicles and nearly 200 miles of trails for ATVs and motorcycles.

Another type of outdoor recreation can be found at the Ocala Shooting Range. Shooters bring their own targets, ranging from simple paper plates to more professional target practices, to test their aim in a small, secluded clearing bordered by a carved-out hillside just off a main road.

With a location in central Florida known for its temperate climate throughout the winter and just an hour or so away from the major theme parks of Orlando, the campgrounds in Ocala National Forest are almost always at capacity. Unlike many forests, the winter months are extremely busy as visitors come to see the snowbirds that have traveled down from northern climates to enjoy extended stays and hibernate in the warmth of Florida’s sunshine. Except for brief downtimes in September and May, the forest is constantly home to nature lovers — more than three million each year — though human impact on the forest is contained to reduce negative effects on the land.

“We are unique in the fact that we can attract visitors throughout the year,” Davis says. “We have a fabulous volunteer program, and we couldn’t run the forest throughout the winter without our 70 volunteers. There have been years when we actually had to turn away people as volunteers because we had too many. People like to be able to come and camp out in our warm climate during the winter and still be close enough to take a day off to visit the other attractions in the area, like the theme parks in Orlando and area beaches.”

The unparalleled opportunity to gaze 30 feet down into tranquil, blue waters to witness the beginning of an underground cave or to nervously keep tabs on an alligator slowly meandering down a river with his huge eyes staring at you are distinctive thrills that create a memorable experience at Ocala National Forest. “Some of the best pictures that I have taken in my life have been in this forest,” Esposito says. Whether they are photos for the scrapbook or memories that you will never forget, images of Ocala National Forest have a way of staying with you long after you leave.

Kimberly Button is a freelance journalist from Orlando, Florida. See her work at www.kimbutton.com

The post Sand Pines and Springs appeared first on American Forests.

By Michelle Johnson

Southern California is no stranger to wildfire. Year after year, the area prepares itself for another fire season, which begins in late summer and runs through the fall. It is during this time that the infamous Santa Ana winds make their way across the hot, dry deserts that border the region to the east, bringing with them the strength to ignite the highly flammable shrub land — known as chaparral — that dominates the landscape.

In October 2003, Southern California experienced one of the worst fire seasons on record with 15 fires — now known to many as the 2003 Firestorm, the worst fire disaster in the state’s history — occurring in Los Angeles, Riverside, San Bernardino and San Diego Counties that quickly escalated, decimating swaths of the region’s forests and shrub lands. The fires ripped through hundreds of thousands of acres of forestland, toppling thousands of nearby homes and other structures and taking at least 16 lives.

The Cedar Fire, the largest of the 15 fires, began on October 25 when a hiker lost in Cleveland National Forest sparked a fire in a desperate attempt to be rescued. In just 14 hours, what started as a relatively small blaze quickly swelled into a 28-mile-long conflagration, driven by the destructive power of the seasonal Santa Ana winds, and crossed into Cuyamaca Rancho State Park.

BEFORE THE FIRE

During the early 1800s, following on the heels of the Spanish government, the Mexican government encouraged the settlement of the area known today as California by granting large plots of land called ranchos, from which the English ranch is derived. The ranchos were tended to by Californian Native Americans and former mission residents and were mainly used to raise cattle and sheep.

In 1845, Agustin Olvera of Los Angeles was granted Rancho Cuyamaca, a 35,501-acre plot, by the Mexican government. He intended to harvest timber, but his contractor, Cesario Walker, abandoned the land because of fear of the native tribes. In 1869, the discovery of gold in the town of Julian prompted a rush to the Cuyamaca Mountains. Stonewall Mine, the most profitable mine in the mountain range located south of Laguna Cuyamaca, was purchased and expanded by Robert W. Waterman, the soon-to-be governor of California. After Waterman’s death in 1891, financial problems plagued the mining community of Cuyamaca City, and mining operations came to a close in 1906. Cuyamaca City continued for many years as a mountain resort.

Then, in 1923, capitalist Ralph M. Dyar bought Rancho Cuyamaca with the help of his business partners, planning to develop a lakefront resort on the northern half of the property. Dyar built a home for his family on the property, using stone and salvaged materials from the nearby Stonewall Mine ruins. The Dyar house later served as park headquarters for Cuyamaca and a visitor center before it was destroyed in the Cedar Fire.

In 1928, the first State Park Bond Act was passed, paving the way for California to purchase private lands to use as public state park land. Then, in 1933, just 10 years after purchasing the rancho, Dyar’s plans to develop the property came to halt as a result of the Great Depression, and he decided to sell the land to California for its state park system. What’s more, the new Cuyamaca Rancho State Park benefited from the placement of two Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) camps that provided the park designers with CCC labor to construct the park’s initial facilities, including many of the trails and campgrounds seen at the park today.

The now 25,000-acre Cuyamaca Rancho State Park is located just 40 miles east of San Diego in the Peninsular Ranges and is home to some of California’s best outdoor recreation and a wide variety of plant and animal species. Located within the park is the 6,512-foot Cuyamaca Peak, San Diego County’s second highest point. Of the more than 100 miles of Cuyamaca’s hiking trails, the 3.5-mile hike up Lookout Fire Road to the peak is a favorite among visitors. From this point, park visitors can view Anza-Borrego State Park to the east and the Pacific coastline to the west. Along the hiking trails visitors are treated to a beautiful array of wildflowers, including peonies, California fuchsia and Southern pink dogwood. Cuyamaca provides more than one million visitors each year with camping and picnicking facilities, horse trails and corrals, and Lake Cuyamaca gives a much-needed respite from the hot California sun. More than half of the park’s acreage is designated as state wilderness, providing the area with strict protection of its natural resources and wildlife, including more than 100 species of the local bird population, like woodpeckers, red-tailed hawks and sage sparrows, and mammals, like mountain lions and badgers — all of which depend on Cuyamaca’s forests for food and shelter.

THE DESTRUCTION

The signal lit by the lost hiker quickly burned out of control, becoming the biggest wildfire in California’s recorded history. The Cedar Fire burned for nearly two weeks before being contained. It denuded more than 95 percent of Cuyamaca’s 25,000 acres. In total, the fire destroyed roughly 2,800 buildings, of which 2,300 were homes, and burned more than 280,000 acres of California’s forestland, including acreage in Cleveland National Forest.

Initially, park officials planned to let the natural regeneration of plant life take place. Fire is actually an important factor in the regeneration process of many of the area’s tree species. In fact, early accounts of the native Kumeyaay people, a Native American group living in the southwestern areas of California and extending south into Baja, Mexico, suggest that they burned the chaparral every seven to eight years to increase the yearly plant growth. The chaparral ecosystem is generally able to recover quickly from fire. Many of the plants in the park, including a large portion of chaparral plant species, have adapted to survive under these harsh, dry conditions. Oftentimes, tall, dense communities of chaparral species become too large, making passage difficult for large animal species. These dense plant communities also keep smaller chaparral species from receiving sunlight. After a fire, these understory plants — known as fire followers — are able to flourish again until the overstory regrows. Then, the seeds of these plants lay dormant until the next fire creates conditions that can bring them back to life.

The forests of Cuyamaca, however, were not able to withstand the intensity of the Cedar Fire, which made natural regeneration nearly impossible. The loss of these forests has greatly affected the entire ecosystem, causing greater soil erosion, releasing stored carbon back into the atmosphere and wiping out important wildlife habitat that supports species like California mountain lions, bobcats and coyotes. These factors have also had negative effects on the air and water quality in the area. Non-native plant species, including shrubs and grasses, have taken advantage of these altered conditions and are quickly taking over. The non-native species take much-needed resources, like water and sunlight, that the native species struggle to obtain, making regeneration all the more challenging.

California State Park officials soon recognized the need for more immediate action to speed up the forest recovery process, and developed a recovery project for Cuyamaca Rancho State Park. The project aims to reestablish patches of landscape with native conifer trees that will aide reforestation on burned acreage throughout the park. More than simply planting trees, this project also incorporates education programs to address the causes of wildfires and how to prevent them. In addition, the project will bring greater attention to the many benefits forests provide — especially their ability to store carbon — by highlighting the drastic effects the loss of forest cover has had on the local environment, including increased soil erosion and decreased air and water quality.

REBUILDING

In March 2008, three initial test sites were planted using a mix of roughly 80 percent Jeffrey pine, 15 percent Coulter pine and five percent incense cedar, the original species burned in the Cedar Fire. American Forests was instrumental during this pilot project, planting roughly 9,000 seedlings in two plots of about 25 acres, incorporating a random planting pattern to mimic the healthy tree stands seen in the park before the Cedar Fire. The mix of species and spacing are designed to recreate historically healthy stands over time. The project used data collected from graduate students at San Diego State University to target planting areas based on soil conditions to strategically position seedlings in such a way that would offer future seed sources for natural succession.

Following the success of the initial plantings, 2009 marked the beginning of the first of four planting phases of the reforestation project. The planting of conifer seedlings expanded to cover 256 acres, then again to 331 acres, with American Forests planting an additional 78,000 seedlings in 2009 and 2010.

The University of California, Santa Barbara is conducting a research project to continue monitoring the planting and analyze collected data to determine how the plantings are acclimating to the environment. Every two years, they will monitor the reforestation work and collect data to determine the impacts of regional climate change and the recovery of vegetative cover. So far, park officials have seen a promising amount of early forest regeneration, especially with native conifer species making a comeback. Officials estimate the trees planted will sequester more than 47,000 tons of carbon dioxide in the first 10 years.

Prior to the Cedar Fire, Cuyamaca’s forests consisted of coniferous and hardwood species. These were replaced mostly with ceanothus, a non-native and highly undesirable groundcover species. Without efforts to restore the original ecosystem, the ceanothus would likely continue to dominate the area, preventing native species from obtaining the nutrients essential for growth. Restoring and protecting areas of native plant species within Cuyamaca also ensures that the park can continue to provide habitat for a wide variety of native mammal and bird species, including the red-breasted sapsucker, red-breasted nuthatch and golden-crowned kinglet.

Cuyamaca’s fire recovery project also provides a valuable model for establishing public education programs in the community. Programs such as the San Diego Wildfires Education Project target students and teachers from kindergarten through grade eight, providing age-appropriate resources to teach about the environmental impacts of wildfires and how to prevent them from happening. A partnership between California State Parks and the California Department of Forestry and Fire Protection (Cal Fire) will implement fire-risk management projects to protect the project area within Cuyamaca Rancho State Park from future catastrophic fires. The lost hiker, who admitted to carelessly sparking the initial flame of the Cedar Fire, was later sentenced to six months behind bars, nearly 1,000 hours of community service, five years’ probation and a fine of $9,000 in restitution. Building the public’s awareness of what can cause fires and providing information on how to protect personal property are crucial in preventing catastrophic fires like the Cedar Fire.

After the Cedar Fire, Cuyamaca Rancho State Park remained closed to the public until March 2004. Opening it to the public was an important first step in the tremendous effort to get the park up and running again. While visitors to the park can still see the damage from the Cedar Fire throughout Cuyamaca, the forestlands are slowly emerging and park activities continue to thrive. And as forestlands return, so does the park’s wildlife. Hiking along the trails, visitors notice conifer species like sugar, ponderosa and Jeffrey pines making a comeback. Animals like the gray fox and bobcats are reestablishing their homes, and reptiles and frogs are spotted clinging to the sides of trees and slithering along pathways.

Michelle Johnson writes from Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, and can be reached at mmjohn82@gmail.com.

Read More: Making History in Cuyamaca Rancho State Park

The post Regrowing a Forest appeared first on American Forests.

State and national forests are often used as outdoor classrooms, but in some places, the forest isn’t just a classroom: it’s the school itself! These outdoor schools — designed for young children, usually ages three to five — are called “forest kindergartens” or, in German, “waldkindergartens.”

“Waldkinder” means “children of the forest,” and in Europe, waldkindergartens abound with many such programs having no building at all. Forest kindergartens are especially popular in Germany, where there are now approximately 450 such programs, some partially supported by the government.

Forest kindergartens gained momentum in Europe in the 1950s and 1960s, but support for the idea goes back farther than that. Friedrich Froebel, a German educator — and earlier, a forester intern — developed the concept of a “kindergarten,” literally translated as “children’s garden,” in the early 1800s. He put his ideas into practice by actually working with young children in a garden setting and taking them on excursions into the countryside. Froebel’s ideas inspired others to establish kindergartens with actual gardens and a play-based curriculum.

A look at most kindergartens in the United States today reflects a very different focus. Kindergarten has become part of the formal education system with teacher-directed lessons being conducted in indoor classrooms.

But people are getting concerned. After the 2006 publication of Richard Louv’s book, Last Child in the Woods, we’re seeing a push to get kids outdoors, not just for recreation, but also for education. Educators and other adults concerned about children and the environment are asking, “How can children develop a caring relationship with nature without spending time outside?”

This push to get kids outdoors is growing rapidly, both nationally and internationally. The recently developed Nature Action Collaborative for Children has more than 1,600 members from six continents. Other growing initiatives focusing on children and nature include the Children and Nature Network and the National Wildlife Foundation’s “Get Outside” program. While forest kindergartens are still very rare in the United States, there are a few.

Cedarsong Nature School was the first school in the United States to open a forest kindergarten. This nonprofit school located on Vashon Island near Seattle was founded by naturalists and childhood educators Erin Kenny and Robin Rogers. Kenny, now principal of Cedarsong, says that she is “passionate about connecting our youngest children with nature so that they can develop early a lifelong compassion for the natural world.” These children, she notes, “will grow up to be our next forest stewards.”

While there were some concerns, at first, about how parents and children would respond to the idea of a school without a ceiling or walls, the response to Cedarsong has been overwhelmingly positive. There’s currently a waiting list — this in spite of the fact that indoors is not an option. Rain or shine — and on Vashon Island, there’s a lot of rain — children are outdoors the entire time. They come prepared with raincoats, mittens, hats and rubber boots.

Mother Earth School is a part of Tryon Life Community Farm, just 20 minutes from downtown Portland, Oregon. Preschool children attending Mother Earth School spend their entire time outdoors enjoying and learning from the seven-acre permaculture farm and the adjoining 650-acre state forest. Storytelling, songs and puppetry all take place outdoors. Children also help with tasks such as baking whole grains in the outdoor kitchen, growing fruits and vegetables, and caring for farm animals. In the forest, they build shelters, play with natural materials and explore the many facets of life in the woods, including camouflage and decomposition.

Woodhaven in Oregon has a one-day-a-week program for four-year-olds with the entire four-hour session being outdoors. Goals of the program include helping children gain independence and a sense of inquiry through interactions with nature, while also developing respect for others and the Earth.

On the East Coast, the Waldorf School of Saratoga Springs, New York, offers a forest kindergarten on state park land, where children have hundreds of wooded acres to explore, discover and learn to love the world of nature. While the curriculum includes many of the activities of a conventional early childhood program (story time, arts and crafts, circle games, etc.), all of the activities take place outdoors and focus on nature as a unifying theme.

The first students from forest kindergartens in the U.S. are just now entering the public school system, so it’s too early to tell what long-term benefits the nature immersion program has had on them. Parents of children from these programs report that their children have great problem-solving skills and critical-thinking abilities. One parent attributes her child’s “low frustration and high perseverance” to the extended periods of time outdoors in a natural environment. Studies on forest kindergartens in Europe report positive gains in self-confidence, sense of independence, stamina, coordination, motivation and concentration, in addition to other personal and academic benefits.

Will forest schools continue to grow in popularity in the U.S.? Kenny has no doubts about it: “I know the movement is growing by the sheer number of requests I get for more information about how to start a forest kindergarten.” Such requests, she notes, reflect the power of the natural environment to promote learning and the need for humans to stay connected with the world of nature.

Ruth Wilson writes from Albuquerque, New Mexico, and can be reached at wilson.rutha@gmail.com.

The post Teaching Among the Trees appeared first on American Forests.

American Forests Winter 2012 Issue showcases landscapes of Ocala National Forest by Florida-based naturalist and nature photographer David Moynahan in the feature “Sand Pines & Springs” and also includes another of David’s photos as its “Last Look.” In this American Forests web-exclusive interview, David describes his quest to capture the supermoon and a favorite Florida locale to shoot photos. 

When and why did you become a nature photographer?

I’ve been a naturalist and outdoorsman all my life, so when I became interested in photography in college in the early 1970s, nature photography was an easy fit. I have been a full-time nature and conservation photographer for the past 10 years.

Are you drawn to a specific type of nature photography? Wildlife? Landscapes? Detailed close-ups?

No, I love all of those. When not on assignment, I love just being in wild places and making the most of opportunities around me.

What was the most difficult image you ever tried to capture?

The “supermoon”: when the full moon coincides with the time in the moon’s orbit that it is closest to Earth, making it appear much larger in the sky than normal. I wanted to show its hugeness against a familiar object in the foreground, so I tried to figure out where it would rise on the horizon and line it up behind the St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge lighthouse from a great distance. I used as much telephoto power as I had. That was before I had (or knew of) programs or apps that predicted exact moonrise on location. I was off by a few degrees. That glorious full moon behind the lighthouse would have been an amazing shot.

Do you have a favorite story that revolves around your quest for beautiful photographs?

One night, I spent six hours with a photo buddy slogging in waist-deep water in the Turner River mangrove tunnels to create a surreal nightscape with light painting and a large alligator skull. I had devised a fan of flashlights mounted on the stern of my small kayak to spray an s-curve of light down the tunnel. The experience left us giddy from cold and weariness (and relief that we had not had any tangles with living gators or crocodiles) and the ultimate photo was an over-the-top fantasy image. You’ll find more of my stories in my photo-blog — http://davidmoynahan.blogspot.com/ — and some on Facebook as well.

Where is your favorite shooting location?

Florida, my home state. I could be more exact, but that changes all the time. I guess I’d say that St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge is often my favorite spot. It is “in my backyard” and so I know it more intimately than most others.

Do you have a favorite photo?

Yes, I always have a favorite, and it always gets displaced by a new exciting shot. My current favorite is a night shot of a lagoon full of glowing alligator eyes.

Which other photographers do you admire?

John Moran, one of Florida’s premiere nature photograpers, is a mentor, good friend and shooting buddy. John Spohrer, Paul Marcellini, Carlton Ward, Clyde Butcher, Jim Valentine and Mac Stone are other Florida photographers whose work inspires me.

Digital or film?

Film for years, but digital for the past decade.

As a conservation photographer, David Moynahan’s goal is to help raise awareness of the natural and beautiful world that still surrounds us. He feels that at this time of spiraling environmental crises, too many people are disconnected from nature. By adding his work to the efforts of environmental groups, scientists and policy makers — honoring the old adage “a picture is worth a thousand words” — he believes that we can re-inspire awe, respect and stewardship of our remaining wild places. You can discover more of David’s photographic adventures and resulting images on his blog: http://davidmoynahan.blogspot.com/.

The post Close Up With Florida Nature Photographer David Moynahan appeared first on American Forests.

American Forests’ Science Advisory Board member Dr. Greg McPherson is a research forester with the USDA Forest Service’s Pacific Southwest Research Station located in Davis, California. In 2000, he received the International Society of Arboriculture’s (ISA) L.C. Chadwick Award for Research. He chaired the ISA Science and Research Committee and serves on the California Urban Forest Council’s Policy Advisory Committee.

Why did you choose to go into urban forestry?

I grew up under a canopy of American elm trees in Howell, Michigan. Despite attempts to save the trees, all were lost to Dutch elm disease. Subconsciously, I felt the sting of that loss, and perhaps that is one reason I became a “green” accountant, developing new methods and tools for quantifying the value of nature’s services from city trees. After college, I worked in a nursery and came to really like trees. As a graduate student in landscape architecture, it became clear that I wasn’t a hot-shot designer. I did a study comparing the costs of compact versus sprawl development and was amazed at the interest those numbers generated. That led me into research, which has kept me close to trees while quantifying the value of their services.

What is the most surprising thing about urban forestry that you have learned or discovered?

I was surprised to learn that for every 20 percent increase in tree shade on residential streets in Modesto, the pavement condition index — a numerical index used to indicate the condition of a roadway — increased by 11 percent. I hadn’t realized how effective trees were at reducing pavement deterioration and the need for costly resurfacing.

What was the most difficult moment or encounter that you’ve experienced while studying or researching urban forestry issues?

One day, I was measuring trees around a house in Sacramento, and a resident called the police thinking that I was casing the joint. They came with sirens blaring and lights flashing, which was pretty embarrassing.

What do you think the biggest issue facing urban forestry is today?

Moving from the tree-planting paradigm to the tree-performance paradigm. For example, mayors in nine of the 12 largest U.S. cities have pledged to plant 20 million trees. Although their level of commitment to urban forestry is gratifying, it has placed the focus almost entirely on tree planting. This is problematic because their commitment to planting is largely driven by their belief that trees are a cost-effective way to combat climate change, protect water quality, conserve energy and improve human health. They know that regulatory policies are creating markets for services such as stormwater management, carbon storage, energy conservation and air quality improvement. However, as rules and reporting become more quantitative, the influence of long-term tree performance on compliance and return on investment grows. This means that tree planters will be accountable to regulators and investors, not just for the number of trees planted, but for their long-term performance. One challenge to this paradigm shift is developing tree monitoring systems that provide continuous feedback resulting in improved performance over the long-term. Another challenge is to incentivize their use! Hopefully, emerging markets for ecosystem services produced by trees will make it happen.

Who is your favorite fictional scientist?

My favorite is Q from the Bond books and movies, whose creativity was focused on solving real-world problems, like keeping 007 alive. His gadgets were innovative and effective.

If you weren’t a scientist, what would you be?

If I wasn’t a scientist, I’d be in the green burial business. I’m attracted to the idea of creating multiple options that benefit the environment for green consumers who have lost loved ones.

What is your favorite aspect or favorite part of your field?

Discovering new and unexpected things. Recently I was collecting data for a life cycle assessment of GHG emissions associated with nursery production of trees. The more data I collected on emissions associated with energy use (e.g., warming the greenhouse, pumping irrigation water, vehicles and equipment), consumable materials (e.g., millions of plastic containers, coir from India, bamboo stakes from China, fertilizers from Utah, bark from Oregon) and transportation (e.g., trains, vehicles used to collect and ship seed, transoceanic shipping and trucks), the more I thought that a tree would not sequester as much carbon as was released during its production. I was really surprised to find that on a per tree basis, GHG emissions were only 20 to 50 percent of the amount that a tree typically sequesters each year. I thought that the emissions would be a lot more.

Where was the most interesting place you were able to travel to in the name of science and why?

I’ve been fortunate to travel to some pretty interesting cities and surrounding forests to study trees. In Australia, I was intrigued by the different issues that cities faced. In Sydney, the bats were taking a terrible toll on trees in the Botanical Garden. Drought was threatening the historic avenue plantings in Canberra, and wildfires had just devastated forested areas around Melbourne. Despite the challenges, there was no quit in the Aussies.

Do you have a favorite story from your years in urban forestry?

Not fit to print!

Where is your favorite spot to experience nature?

I enjoy mountains and have climbed the highest peaks in California, Wyoming and Ecuador. I also like to fish in nearby mountain rivers to get away from it all. I participate in triathalons, so on an everyday basis, I am usually working out.

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