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We are in the final days of making preparations for the arrival of Maine School of Science and Mathematics students who will participate in the Winter Watershed Geochemistry field school run by Sarah Nelson. Preparations include setting up a speical blog page for students particpating in the class. See the full story for detials.
Acadia Partners’ business is conservation. Sure, we have a special niche to fill in the world of conservation, supporting the scientific research that the Park needs and promoting related science education, But, in the grand scheme of things, we’re conservationists.
Here’s the rub: People don’t conserve when they are living on the economic edge — instead, they use whatever is at hand, ignoring the ecological costs. In an earlier article I have written about the need for a conservation ethic — a sense of obligation to the land in place of the conviction that nature is there for us to use. But we also know that such a reciprocal relationship between people and land — that sense of obligation and connection to place — can emerge only when people are meeting their own needs.
Put simply, conservation emerges out of economic stability.
That’s why Thomas Friedman’s most recent best selling book, The World is Flat, is required reading for conservationists. It is also required reading for anyone concerned about the future of scientific research. I’ll go one step farther. It is required reading for anyone thinking hard about the future of the United States.
This summer I am spending part of each day working out of the Research Building at SERC. The Park and Acadia Partners have just opened this building up this year for the summer season, and what is going on here is exciting. The building is the daily workspace of a group of scientists and students doing interesting work that is good for the Park, good for the researchers, and ultimately good for the community. This post takes a look at what is going on and at why it is important.
Resource Acadia is offering a workshop in which participants will learn about and participate in research into rockweed population genetics along the intertidal areas around Schoodic Point.
Yesterday, after we finished our morning walk, Molly the dog and I encountered two young moose. They were surprised to see us and made for the woods. I tend to think of moose as big and ungainly, but their movement, though quick, was graceful as they ran across an open area into the forest. Their disappearance was sudden and complete once they were in the woods. Gone.
Molly has seen moose before, and she is obviously impressed with them. Her response has been the same each time. She moves from standing to sitting and then watches, looking at the spot where the moose were last visible before disappearing.
I am impressed too. There is something thrilling about seeing a big animal in the Park. Part of the thrill, to be sure, is that such sightings are uncommon.. But the thrill reaches deeper than that, to something more basic in my own animal makeup. My guess would be that seeing big animals sharpens my sense that the Park still has some wildness left.
Some coastal brook trout spend all their lives in fresh water. Others head out to sea for a few months or a year and then return to fresh water to spawn. The ones that move back and forth are called “salters” or “sea run brook trout.” The technical term for this movement out to sea and then back to fresh water for spawning is “anadromy.” Nobody knows why some brook trout are anadromous and others are fresh water residents all their life. Biologists do believe, however, that the number of anadromous fish is declining. They are not sure why, but roads and culverts blocking the movement of the fish are one possible factor, among others.
As is the case with so much other ecosystem research in and around Acadia National Park, the first step toward understanding the bigger questions is an assessment of the current situation. How many fish are moving back and forth? Where does the migration happen? Where does it NOT happen?
In March Acadia National Park brought together more than 50 scientists in a series of workshops with the goal of identifying important Park research questions. When the scientists were asked what the Park should be doing now in anticipation of future changes and impacts, there was broad consensus that Acadia was likely to be changed in important ways by global warming.
One of the most consistent, striking messages to come from the research opportunity catalog work that took place here at SERC in March was that the Park really does not have a complete inventory of the different species of plants and animals in the Park–and does not have a full understanding of important natural systems. This is not just because funds are short–which they are– but also because of the way that scientific work is valued. It seems to us that the valuation does not reflect the full “market” of information needs and of sources of financial support. It is the kind of problem that Acadia Partners was created to solve.
Yesterday Denny and I met with Robin Alden and Ted Hoskins of the Penobscot East Resource Center, an organization in Stonington focused on community based science and community leadership. As often happens in such meetings, someone asked me, "What does Acadia Partners do?" I gave the usual quick answer: "We support science in the National Park."
Ted Hoskins is a careful listener–the kind of person who actually thinks about what you say. So, rather than satisfying Ted, my answer had a kind of multiplying effect, resulting in two more questions, each taking off in a different direction. Pursuing those two questions here in the weblog might be useful for others who want to know more about what we do at Acadia Partners.
There is new evidence that the currents in the North Atlantic are changing and slowing down, according to research published in Nature last week. The effects of this change on Europe could be dramatic. It also has me wondering about how these changes might affect the Labrador current off the Coast of Maine.