SMSC Diary (Week 14): Writing a Conclusion is Always Hard
To start, let’s recap this past week.
Our final WEC class consisted of three small groups presenting the reserve designs they created for the mid-Atlantic species of their choosing. This class meeting was not the emotional end I was expecting, we didn’t give everyone hugs or sign each other’s yearbooks. Instead, we awaited our public speaking fate in a room filled with nervous energy. Once all three presentations were complete, the nervous energy lifted and it was time for lunch. We filed out of the room like we would on any other day. Little acknowledgement was made to the significance of this morning.
Following our last in-class meeting, WEC students were given the option to survey the SCBI parameter with Jim and Anneke for the afternoon. Over half the class opted to stay inside and work on the abundance of final projects looming in the near future. I chose to join the hike – it was a beautiful day and I felt long over due for some fresh air.
To my surprise, the hike showed me more than the fences surrounding the property. Our list of sightings included a variety of scat (bear, deer, rabbit, coyote), a deer that appeared to have gotten its foot caught in a fence and died, and many birds. Each time we passed new scat was just as invigorating as the last, but my truly favorite part of the day was when we came across an expanse of dying brush habitat. It reminded me of something you would see in the musical Into the Woods. The brush provided dense aerial cover, but left many gaps in the understory for movement – perfect northern bobwhite quail habitat (NOBO).
The fact that I was able to recognize habitat for one of the bird species we discussed this semester made me very happy. Before coming to SMSC I knew nothing about birds, except that if it is very bright red, it is probably a cardinal. Earlier in the semester, our WEC class divided into stakeholder groups to discuss the NOBO action plan established by the Virginia Department of Game and Inland Fisheries (VDGIF). My group represented a conservation organization interested in the wellbeing of these birds for their intrinsic and cultural value. We strategically developed ways in which our organization could reduce the management burden placed on VDGIF by emphasizing the established connections our organization already has. While I was able to defend my group’s interest in saving this bird species based on the research I conducted prior to our presentation, I still didn’t feel a personal connection. I understood that many people grew up hearing the call of the bobwhite, but I had not. I presented my stakeholder group’s case to the best of my ability, but it was not until later that afternoon that I really started to feel a connection to this species.
While walking around the Blandy Experimental Farms (where we did our presentations) I was able to recognize the warm season grass and shrub habitat crucial to NOBO survival. However, just because the habitat was there didn’t mean the quail were too. We continued to walk around the property, until we came to a small pond with a lookout station. The station felt like a tree house, which was great, but I wanted to look for animals in the water.
So I migrated down to the pond to look for frogs, turtles, and fish - only to see two little mocha caramel latte looking softballs in the bushes beside the pond. The quail had been spotted! I quickly called to the group up the hill to come down to verify my find, to which Jim’s excited whispers and uncontrollable body spasms did in fact confirmed. Everyone was excited to finally see the species we had spent hours discussing and studying in the previous weeks. This was the moment I finally understood the value of the bobwhite for what it was: a pudgy ground bird just trying to carry on with its life like the rest of us.
Now, how does this relate to our final hike? Well, as much as I was hoping to, we did not find any bobwhites. For a moment, however, I was convinced it was going to happen. We were going to see another bobwhite. My heartbeat had even picked up a bit with excitement (this never used to happen with birds, mammals sure, but not birds). I believed we were going to see one because I had seen a quail-like bird fly through the habitat. Jim and I ventured into the brush to check, and ended up startling what we believed to be a type of grouse. We peaked around a few more patches where possible coveys might be located, but with no luck. As we began our exit from the middle of the brush, a bird darted out of a covered patch near the entrance. Again, Jim’s excitement shined through, as he believed we just been stalked by an American woodcock!
When Jim told me he thought it was a woodcock, I became excited because I had just mentioned this species as one that would benefit from our reserve design we had presented hours previously. Similar to my first encounter with the NOBO, before I saw the bird in the wild I hadn’t felt any connection to the species. I knew they should be appreciated because all life has worth, but that was the extent. But now, I could excitedly share that I found an American woodcock on the SCBI property! This became even cooler when Jim informed me that this species is very illusive in nature, keeping well hidden among the brush.
From these experiences, I have learned the true value of experiential learning. Throughout the semester, our professors have emphasized the importance of connecting with local peoples when addressing conservation issues. On the surface, that makes sense. Of course you want to include the people most closely impacted by your conservation policies and actions, but professionals believing their education has taught them better than local peoples can easily overlook this.
I acknowledge that looking at wild birds is not the same as enacting conservation policies in developing nations. What is the same, is understanding the importance of brush habitat for birds you see in the wild and understanding the importance of limited resources for people you meet and befriend in other countries. It can be easy to brush off the needs of strangers, but much harder to make decisions that leave your friends left struggling to survive.
Finally, this semester has taught me the value of a team. While I was paired with the same two people nearly all semester to conduct our groundhog (Marmota monax) monitoring plan on The Farm at Sunnyside and develop a reserve design for the New England cottontail (Sylvilagus transitionalis) in Maine, we learned to play off each other’s strengths in order to shadow individual weaknesses. I couldn’t have asked for a better group to work closely with for four months.
This semester was amazing in the most surprising ways. I was looking forward to getting to go outside for class, which we did a lot, but that was all I really expected. In addition to learning new field techniques for conservation, I learned more about the flora and fauna of Virginia, a variety of wildlife monitoring approaches, the importance of an action plan and budget, how to critically read and discuss scientific papers, best practices for grant writing, how to effectively keep a field notebook, and so much more. I do not think that I will ever have an educational experience match what I had this past semester. As icing on the cake, I also had the best floor I could have ever asked for as a first year resident advisor.
What’s really going to hurt is exchanging our secret Santa gifts the night before the closing ceremony. In my head, I feel like that present is my last hold on this semester.
