Category: biodiversity

Categories
biodiversity Population

Thank you for the Baklava!

“Alfie & Me” is a many-layered joy to read! Its main story is as delicious as they come. An orphaned baby screech owl is found and fostered by a human family who have the knowledge to sustain her. Even though there is much love in this story, there are also times of stress and doubt. Will Alfie (the owl) grow up to act like a wild animal? If she does, will she fly away and leave her human family? Will she survive living in the wild? Worse, will she not take to the wild life and have to remain a pet for the rest of her life?

The story of Alfie is the honey in this literary pastry. There are two other parts to this baklava book, however—chopped nuts, and thin, crisp layers of filo. The nuts are the real meat of the story. Compared to the sweet story of Alfie, these tidbits of philosophy, history and religion are more serious reading. The “Me” of this book, Carl Safina, trained as an ecologist, with work on sea birds. I am amazed that a biologist should have such deep knowledge of Eastern religions, Greek philosophy and other aspects of the origins of our modern society. He regrets the turns of events that have allowed modern humanity to have so little respect for the planet upon which we depend. He is especially troubled by Plato, who set the stage for the destruction of our planet which we are now experiencing.

Safina writes about the three forces that are destroying our world. They are: loss of biological diversity; human overpopulation; poisoning of our air and water—and of ourselves. It was refreshing for me to read someone who is so knowledgeable and who shares my concerns so strongly and eloquently. You will have to read the book to fill in the details of how Plato set us up for failure. You will also learn what these three horsemen of the apocalypse are doing to destroy us and the rest of the natural world.

Filo dough is the final component of this delicious book. It forms the structure of the baklava that holds it together and gives it shape. At first it was a bit disconcerting to me to go instantly from owl to Plato, but then I got used to it. After all, the book’s subtitle is “What Owls Know, What Humans Believe”. 

The book documents a relatively short period of time, about a year during the early COVID pandemic. It also takes place in a small geographic area in New York state—mostly in Carl and Patricia Safina’s yard, plus a little surrounding territory with woods and neighbors’ yards. There is also the stop sign on the street in front of the Safina home, and several other landmarks that I’ve gotten to know well. It is a territory sized to a small species of owl, but also a friendly space that we get to know from Safina’s fine descriptions. This is the compact but complex space describing “what owls know”.

The scope of the philosophizing, however, is much broader than the owl territory. It covers millennia, its physical dimensions vary from subatomic particles to the universe, and it heads from the concrete to the spiritual. This vast breadth of subjects explains “what humans believe” in the subtitle. A recurring theme of the book is that our species has had the liberty to fabricate lots of ideas that explain the mysteries of our human experience, while animals cannot afford to indulge in this sort of nonsense.

“Alfie & Me—What Owls Know, What Humans Believe” puts Carl Safina in the same league with top nature writers/philosophers such as Rachel Carson, Ed Abbey and Robin Wall Kimmerer.

©Richard Grossman MD, 2025

 

Categories
biodiversity

Meet Three Endangered Animals

Ajo Middle School Citizen Scientists  NPS photo

I learned about two sea creatures while vacationing this spring near Puerto Peñasco in Mexico. By coincidence, we were close to the home of these two endangered animals, at the north end of the Sea of Cortez.

The totoaba is a large fish that only lives in a very small area, and only spawns in the Colorado River delta. Most notable, however, are its swim bladders, which are prized delicacies in China. These organs make the fish valuable, so that it is often captured even though it is protected by law. Locals fish with gill nets which allow small fish to pass through, but the holes are sized to catch the totoaba.

Totoabas reproduce slowly. They don’t become fertile until they are 6 or 7 years old, but they live to be 15 at most and only spawn just once a year. The young are picky—they require brackish water. Totoaba eggs are laid in the Colorado River delta where the river mixes with the ocean. Indeed, their whole population is confined to the area near the Colorado’s mouth.

Unfortunately, the Colorado River has so much water diverted for human needs that most of the time no fresh water reaches the Sea of Cortez. With no fresh water to mix with the ocean, there is no brackish water for spawning—one of the reasons the totoaba is going extinct.

The second species, the vaquita, is the world’s smallest porpoise and shares in the same small habitat with totoabas. Vaquitas are smaller but plumper than their neighbors causing them to also get caught in gill nets. Since they are mammals, they drown unless they can get to air every few minutes.

These two neighbors are both critically endangered because of habitat destruction and “overharvesting”. Both species are likely to become extinct in the near future. Although the Mexican government has passed laws forbidding the use of gill nets, that hasn’t prevented destruction of the two creatures. Unfortunately the prospect of a large payout from selling a totaba is too large an incentive for many poor fishermen to resist.

Vaquitas are also protected by Mexican law, but they apparently are only killed by accident. Their population, which was never large, is now estimated to be as few as a dozen. These animals are secretive and difficult to see, but scientists can listen to their high frequency sound, which vaquitas use to communicate. These calls allow scientists to estimate the animals’ numbers.

In an effort to save vaquitas, scientists from 9 countries banded together to organize VaquitaCPR. After months of planning they captured one of these little animals, with the hope of keeping it safe in an enclosed area of ocean. The specimen showed signs of severe stress, however, so they released her. The second animal didn’t fare as well—it died shortly after capture. 

I first read about vaquitas and totoabas in a Scientific American article, “Goodbye, Vaquita: How Corruption and Poverty Doom Endangered Species”. It is sad to learn that our human needs and carelessness are destroying these beautiful animals.

Driving home from Puerto Peñasco we entered Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument right after we crossed the border. We stopped at the visitor center to get oriented to the Monument and eat a picnic lunch. The nature trail offered a great way for all 3 of us (our dog traveled with us) to stretch our legs. At its end we were surprised to find a small oasis with shady trees, luxuriant plants, a pond and a sign with the unpronouncable title: “Quitobaquito Pupfish”. This is the name of another endemic species—meaning its entire geographic range is tiny, like the totaba and vacquito. This species of pupfish only occurs naturally in 2 places in the world. In the USA the only habitat is in the Monument’s Quitobaquito Spring, which forms a small pool. The second location in the Rio Sonoyta, just over the border in Mexico.

A few years ago the Spring appeared to be drying up. In an attempt to preserve these small, rare fish, the Monument enlisted the help of 160 young citizen scientists—students at the nearby Ajo middle school! They collaborated to design and to build the pupfish refuge. The kids continue to monitor the condition of the oasis, water quality and number of fish.

This story of endangered species started out sadly with the totaba and vaquito, but has a happy ending with the pupfish. Unfortunately, many more species are lost to our expanding human population than can be saved.

© Richard Grossman MD, 2018