Run don’t walk to this issue of Scientific American where an excerpt of Mary Ellen Hannibal’s new book features the smart work of our good friend Mary O’brien returning beavers to the Escalante Basin. Here’s a taste to whet your appetite:
One five-star general in the campaign to save nature is Dr. Mary O’Brien, and she has a thing for beaver, the championing of which she has completely converted me to. In the first place, the quest for beaver has arguably had more impact on American history than the pursuit of any other single natural resource, its influence lasting well over 200 years. Sixty million or so beaver populated North America before 1600, and had a huge effect on the hydrology of the landscape – beaver dams stored water, slowed its flow and rate of evaporation, slowed erosion and supported a wealth of fish and bird species. In fact, the extermination of beaver from North America arguably marks the point at which our landscapes began to buckle and slide down the ruinous course we find them on now. Especially in the West, where water has always been an enormous issue and will become more important as climate change affects it, there is a real imperative to put beaver back on the waterways.
How’s that for an opening paragraph! Apparently everyone was a little surprised they ran the chapter now, but what a delightful read for the beginning of September, when so many cities are going to be panicking about new dams and possible flooding! September is ‘decide to kill beavers’ month, so this couldn’t be a better time to see them in a new light. Of course I wrote the author to let her know that beavers can have a similar transforming effect in a city too!
Everything is different when beaver are around. Here’s what happens: Beaver move into an area along a stream or a creek, part of the freshwater system that ultimately connects over the continent in a vast network like human veins and arteries. In that they affect whole cascades of other interaction, beavers are known as a “keystone” species, though some scientists prefer the term “highly interactive species.” They function as multiconnectors. Beavers not only rejigger the ecosystem, but also affect the lay of the land itself. Cutting down trees on the edge of the streams opens up the area, creating new ponds, swamps, and meadows. They actually store a supply of water that can be released in the event of drought. This slowing, spreading, and layering of water is precisely what makes them pests in some areas—you may not want your backyard flooded, for example. But there is no downside to letting beaver help the miles and miles of wild land creeks in a place like Fishlake National Forest attain better resilience, especially confronting climate change.
Do yourself a favor and go read the whole thing and all its wonderful details, including monster aspen stand named “Pando” which is latin for “I reproduce” – (As opposed to the more commonly recognized term “PandA” which apparently means “I don’t”!) With the first ever Escalante Beaver Festival right around the corner, the timing of the article couldn’t be better, and I am certain the commissioners of Garfield county are feeling the heat right about now.
Just to remind you that all roads lead to Rome, here is Dr. O’brien inspecting our children’s tiles on the Escobar bridge in Martinez in 2011:
