Which charismatic seabird is famed for its aerial agility and the illusion that it can walk on water?
Image credit: Patrick Coin (cc-by-sa-2.5)
Alone on a rolling sea, I scan the waves for life and find comfort in the company of seabirds. While gannets and shearwaters soar, it is the little storm petrels that make me smile the widest. They are like ocean butterflies, fluttering the valleys between waves to pluck at invisible animals in the neuston. Because so much of the world is covered by the ocean, the most numerous bird species is the Wilson’s petrel, found in all oceans. In New England and Newfoundland, Leach’s petrel nests on rocky outlying islands. Storm petrels can be distinguished by their foot color, shape of the “usual” white rump patch, and tail shape. I cannot tell them apart, and that does not lessen my enjoyment of being with individual petrels.
The black-capped petrel feeds on squid, tiny fish, and zooplankton. Named “petrel” after the fisherman Saint Peter because the spritely birds stirring the sea surface with their feet for food looked like they were walking on water.
These elegant little birds, dressed in black and white feathers, spend most of their lives in the Caribbean Sea, returning to land in fading light to nest in burrows among the mountains of Hispaniola and Dominica.
Sadly, the black-capped petrel is currently threatened due to human activity.
The mountains where they nest are being cleared for agriculture and development, which is destroying the petrel’s nesting habitat, making it increasingly difficult for the population to survive.
During their nesting period, black-capped petrel chicks fall prey to human-introduced species such as rats and mongooses. These invasive predators have had a devastating impact on the petrel population.
From mountains to the sea, our environment is all connected. Our actions high on land are harming petrels and marine life below.
The good news is that local actions, when taken together, have a meaningful impact. We have passed a tipping point where vegetation is being removed, and soils are being replaced by hardscapes and heat islands. Although annual rainfall has not increased, water that once seeped into the ground now runs off as stormwater, causing flooding. When water cascades over hot hardscapes, it absorbs and transports heat to the ocean, along with harmful pollutants that reduce the productivity of phytoplankton and lower the nutritional value of copepods, a petrel’s favored food.
Petrel Range. Andrew Farnsworth, Cornell Lab of Ornithology
To better understand what’s happening, try warming a cup of water with a hair dryer. You’ll find that the only way to heat water above the air temperature is to place it on a hot plate. The solution to the petrel’s plight is to remove the hot plates, to cover heat islands with vegetation and soil, such as potted plants and raised gardens. Enabling properties to retain rainwater that falls on them will allow plants and rivers to survive dry periods, reduce municipal stormwater management costs, and alleviate suffering for people living in low-lying areas.
Our collective action to green our neighborhoods can turn the tide on the climate crisis and save charming little birds like the black-capped petrel from extinction.
I like to take the power of the wind to propel a sailboat into the wind. For the sails to fill and drive the boat forward, the wind must be about 40 degrees to the side. Too close to the wind, the sails lose the wind, luff, and the boat stalls. Sail for a while on a tack with the wind coming over one rail and then turn the boat before the wind, to fill the sails on the other side. Progress is a zigzag. Sometimes, when going through the narrows, no matter how expertly the boat is brought about and sails sheeted in, the windward mark cannot be fetched due to wind, tide, and weather.
I take the same approach to advancing environmental legislation. The course is set, sails trimmed, and you go as far as you can, against the wind, before conditions change and obstacles appear. Then, quickly shift the effort onto a new tack. Sometimes, despite everyone’s best efforts, the legislation does not pass. Like going for an afternoon sail, win or lose, you still go sailing the next day because it’s not the destination; it’s the thrill of the voyage with a capable crew pulling together when the helmsman cries:
“Ready about, hard to lee,” fill the sails with wind and move forward once more.
FWS
Rob Moir, PhD, is the Executive Director of the Ocean River Institute. He lives in Somerville, Massachusetts, with a population density of 19,000 people per square mile, making it the most densely populated city in the Northeast. He enjoys sailing from Boston Harbor to see the Harbor Islands give way to open ocean with no land on the horizon, humbled by our smallness and the vast power of the ocean. For more information, please visit www.oceanriver.org. Rob’s Clam Chowdah Narratives are on Substack https://robmoir469011.substack.com/
What species fights climate change, creates “surface-active groups,” and shares a home with the Maine lobster?
North Atlantic Right Whale Image credit: NOAA
That would be the North Atlantic right whale. Hardly an unsung species, this large marine mammal is one of the most critically endangered in the world, with approximately 372 members remaining. Unfortunately for the whale, its story is inexplicably intertwined with that of North Atlantic fishermen, in particular the Maine lobster industry. On the surface, this is a battle between said industry and whale conservationists. But must this story be a zero-sum game?
A Deep Dive
As one of the largest species on the planet, the North Atlantic right whale can grow up to 14-17 meters long and weigh up to 154,000 pounds. During my research, I was surprised to find that there are three subspecies of right whale, which appear very similar but have lived in genetic isolation for millions of years. In addition to the North Atlantic right whale, there are the North Pacific and South Atlantic right whale species. All three are listed as “Endangered” under the US Endangered Species Act (ESA), a designation that triggers various types of protective legislation. While the North Pacific right whale fares about as well as the North Atlantic under these conditions, estimates of the South Pacific right whale population are as high as 4,000.
Despite their formidable size, the right whale is a gentle giant. They are incredibly slow swimmers, and can reach swimming speeds of
They also use their baleen to filter their food and have diets mainly consisting of copepods. This diet is also part of the whale’s role as a “nutrient cycler” in the ocean ecosystem: by feeding and defecating, the whales provide crucial nutrients to phytoplankton, which helps sequester atmospheric carbon– hence their role as a climate change fighter!
Right whales are also incredibly social creatures and are often seen vocally interacting on the surface of the ocean in both mating and social settings. These interactions are called surface active groups (SAG), and make for great whale watching. Analogously, the speed, size, and behavior of the right whale led to its persecution by whale hunters for centuries. These actors even named the species, as they were the so-called “right whale” to hunt. The slow-moving, blubber-rich, and surface-active North Atlantic right whale was thus hunted to near extinction several times in history. The first concrete step toward whale protection at an international level occurred in 1946, when the United Nations established the still-active International Whaling Commission.
The North Atlantic right whale commonly resides on the east coast of the United States and the west coast of Europe. In the states, the whale is known for feeding in the north (especially by Cape Cod and the Gulf of Maine) and calving in the south near Georgia. Afterward, the mothers herd their calves north so they can benefit from the plentiful copepods off the coast of Massachusetts.
NOAA
It would be a mistake, however, to assume that right whales are entirely bound to such human-mapped migration patterns. This was pointed out to me by Rob Moir of the Ocean River Institute (ORI), who showed me examples of whales breaking these patterns. Notably, the ORI reported an instance of two female right whales, Curlew and Koala, migrating as far south as the Bahamas and as far north as Prince Edward Island.
This outlier displaying whale intelligence reminded me of a larger point that my professors often make, that discourse around environmental protection sometimes falls into the trap of framing such actions as benevolence on our part. In reality, we share this planet with complex, intelligent species and natural processes, and it is in our best interest to preserve them. I believe wholeheartedly in the importance of functional natural systems. As someone born and raised in Maine, my public school education was full of cautionary tales of how anthropogenic changes can destabilize human lives.
In Maine, we have a long history of learning from unsustainable economic systems the hard way.For better or worse, many livelihoods here are tied to the functionality of our natural resources. In the early 1990s, Atlantic cod stocks virtually collapsed after decades of overfishing. Similar results in the shrimp, halibut, and numerous other populations led many to move into the lobstering industry. Beyond massive job losses, these shifts were particularly painful in a state whose cultural identity rests on continuing these ways of
Lobster vs. Whale
The Maine lobster industry faces numerous threats to its well-being, including legal gains in right whale conservation. In many ways, the continuance of the Maine lobster industry is a bit of a miracle: it is a vintage way of life, an occupation only made possible by stringent and consensual regulations designed to limit overfishing. The catching of egg-laying female lobsters is prohibited, and limits on the minimum size allowed for a harvested lobster are routinely updated. Hauling times are also limited during the summer months, and hauling is prohibited after sunset from November through May. These efforts become more important in the face of lobster northward migration to the Bay of Fundy. The Gulf of Maine is warming faster than 99% of the world’s oceans, creating increasingly less suitable lobster conditions.
When you look at the numbers, the importance of the lobster industry in Maine becomes clear. Estimates from a 2019 Middlebury College study report that the seafood sector provided as many as 33,000 Maine jobs and $3.2 billion in revenue in Maine annually. Although these numbers have since decreased, they stand to represent the strong presence of moneyed interests in the fight against right whale conservation, but also that the livelihoods of ordinary Mainers and New Englanders are at stake. Under these pressures, lawmakers are undoubtedly tempted to side with economic progress over conservation, which begs the question…
What Rights Do Whales Have?
In 1973, the United States government passed the Endangered Species Act (ESA), which holds the federal government responsible for the conservation of species classified as threatened or endangered by the US agencies. In article (a)(1)of Section II, the ESA asserts that species loss is a “consequence of economic growth and development untempered by adequate concern and conservation.” Thus, the framers of this document intended this law to empower the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (USFWS), National Marine Fisheries Service (NMFS), and successful plaintiffs to defend endangered animals against economic interests.
But what, exactly, is the monetary value of a given species on this planet? The 1978 court case Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA) v. Hill, which was the Supreme Court’s first exercise in interpreting the ESA, explored this question. The plaintiff was second-year Tennessee University Law student Hiram Hill, who sued the TVA to halt the construction of the Tellico Dam. The dam was set to bring immense economic benefits to the area, but would also render the snail darter, a small, endangered fish residing in the ESA-designated critical habitat of the Tennessee River, extinct.
Tellico Dam, mid-construction. Courtesy Tennessee Valley Authority
Initially, the courts sided with the TVA. The District Court claimed that protecting the snail darter would create “an unreasonable result,” essentially, that the existence of the snail darter was not worth the price of halting the dam’s construction. Unfortunately for the TVA, such an exemption is not provided for in the ESA. SCOTUS saw this and reversed earlier rulings, siding with Hill. This ruling was not obeyed by Congress, however. A few years later, a small amendment authorizing the TVA to complete the Tellico Dam was thrown into an unrelated bill, which became law. This was illegal and violated SCOTUS’s authority.
At this point, you may be asking what a fifty-year-old court case about a freshwater fish (which did not go extinct, by the way) has to do with the right whale. The answer is quite a bit. In court, the snail darter faced off with the Tellico Dam for the right to exist, with the former providing no major economic benefit and the latter with grand claims that it would. In the end, the fight was not defined by this metric- instead, the highest court in the United States ruled that all species have a right to exist that is monetarily immeasurable.
North Atlantic Right Whale and Fishing Line Source: NOAA
The Blame Game
The necessary solutions for right whale survival will be disruptive. Organizations such as Oceana name the two biggest threats to right whales as vessel strikes and entanglements with ropes used in fishing equipment (despite decades-old Maine laws mandating weak links and sinking lines to limit whale entanglements). Regarding the latter, the most productive lobster season in Maine and Massachusetts coincides with the right whale’s food-motivated pilgrimage to the same waters. NOAA first officially connected the lobster industry to right whale deaths in 1996 and recommended seasonal prohibitions on fishing.
In 2017, NOAA recorded an “Unusual Mortality Event” where 17 right whales died, many due to fishing gear entanglements. This event spurred many of the modern “whale versus lobster” legal battles and debates we see today. In 2022, U.S. representatives in Congress secured a six-year pause on legislating the lobstering industry in the way of whale conservation, citing a history of sustainable practices in the industry. As a compromise, the bill featured forensic gear-marking requirements and authorized funding for whale-safe ropeless traps. These trap technologies today remain unreliable, despite extra funding.
The Right Way Forward
What elements define a sustainable policy? In this case, the answer isn’t black and white: it’s not pro-whale or pro-lobster industry. On one hand, the ESA asserts that the North Atlantic right whale has the right to live. On the other hand, the hardships that the lobster industry currently faces are not the result of poor choices made by the industry itself. Climate change is the fault of larger societal processes and decisions, and the lobster fishermen of Maine have long been careful to maintain the size of the local lobster population. As for sustainability in the way of right whales, ropeless traps aren’t currently reliable enough for commercial use: fortunately, the industry has until 2028 to make them so.
In the meantime, whale conservationists see other solutions to protect the North Atlantic right whale populations. For example, the Ocean River Institute advocates for a designated right whale sanctuary off the coast of Massachusetts. This area, which is already a desirable feeding area for right whales, would be administered by a diverse advisory council of interested parties, including scientists and representatives of the fishing industry. If the area in question were to become designated under the National Marine Sanctuaries Act, fishing of any kind would include restrictions on commercial fishing and types of gear.
Proposed Right Whale National Marine Sanctuary Ocean River Institute
Furthermore, the ORI sees the planting of Miyawaki forests in Massachusetts coastal towns as a tool to improve the lives of right whales. Beyond causes of mortality, whales suffer when polluted stormwater enters their habitat. This process can lead them to ingest pollutants that cause illness and infections. Additionally, contaminated stormwater can cause algae blooms and deplete the nutritional quality and availability of copepods. One way to limit stormwater runoff into the ocean is to create land conditions where water can be absorbed. Miyawaki forests are excellent at this task: their loose soil and dense vegetation (which is meant to mimic an old-growth forest for rapid plant growth) is perfectly suited to absorb large amounts of water. This could improve conditions for right whales off the coast of Massachusetts and beyond.
As a self proclaimed “policy person,” the lack of legislative progress on climate and conservation issues is incredibly frustrating. I also believe that the government owes a fair solution to the lobster industry. Delivering justice in this situation would therefore be a complex process- fortunately, we can initiate and foster change at an individual level.
**Special thanks to Rob Moir (Ocean River Institute) and Taylor Mann (Oceana) for providing information for this piece!
Alexa Hankins is a student at Boston University, where she is pursuing a degree in International Relations with a concentration in environment and development policy. She discovered Bio4Climate through her research to develop a Miyawaki forest bike tour in greater Boston. Alexa is passionate about accessible climate education, environmental justice, and climate resilience initiatives. In her free time, she likes to read, develop her skills with houseplants, and explore the Boston area!
I flicker and float in warm evening air, Like nature’s own fireworks, more care than scare. No sound, just light as I drift and play What glowing insect lights up your way?
Fireflies in upstate New York Image credit: Alexandra Ionescue
Fireflies
We’re doing Featured Creature a little differently this week. Instead of a written piece, we’re publishing this conversation between Adrianna Drindak (Science Communications Intern) and Brendan Kelly (Communications Manager), with media and contextual commentary from Alexandra Ionescu (Associate Director of Regenerative Projects).
Brendan
Hi Adrianna.
Adrianna
Hi Brendan.
Brendan
So, Alexandra Ionescu had this idea of exploring fireflies for Featured Creature this weekend. It’s obviously Fourth of July in the United States and we typically celebrate with fireworks, and she made this great observation from the woods in Upstate NY, about fireflies being nature’s fireworks, and I thought that was so great and left open so much room to explore not just the ecology and biochemistry, but also I think our collective childlike awe and fascination with them.
Alexandra
Exactly! Thank you both and I’m so bummed I have to miss the rest of this conversation, but yes I wanted to give a little more context.
This summer I shared a really beautiful moment with my dad while he was visiting from abroad.
I took him to one of my favorite spots in Upstate NY near my husband’s parents house to see the beavers. We went at dusk and were able to catch a beaver and a few tail slabs. It was nearly dark by this point and the path back to the car cut through the forest. And what unraveled was this beautiful transition from being in the presence of a beaver and observing its movement through the water, and then walking back to the car through the dark forest.
Except, it wasn’t.
The forest was lit up by probably thousands of fireflies. Wherever you looked you could see them flickering and communicating and signaling. There were rhythms and waves of dots and points and flashes of light dancing all around us.
And it’s fascinating to realize that firefly season coincides with the 4th of July, especially if we think of fireflies as nature’s own fireworks. (Only, it happens through chemistry, with absolutely no sound the human ear can detect, and no pollution.)
How does nature illuminate, versus how humans illuminate?
Maybe it all comes down to an intentionality of being—one that respects the web of life, that practices co-existence, where illumination doesn’t disturb the ways of other beings, but coexists alongside them—through silence, wavelengths, and chemistry.
So I invite everyone this weekend—and beyond—instead of going to see the violent, explosive fireworks, the human–made fireworks, go see nature’s own fireworks instead.
By Alexandra Ionescu
Brendan
Thanks Alex, that’s such a beautiful way to set course for this conversation and our hope is to circle back around to some of those themes by the end. Okay, Adrianna, what do we know about fireflies?
Adrianna
Thanks Alex! Yes, let’s talk about fireflies. Or lightening bugs, depending on where you live or grew up.
Brendan
I was raised in Kansas, they’ve always been lightening bugs to me.
Adrianna
As a New Englander, it’s fireflies.
Brendan
Agree to disagree.
Adrianna
Sure. So this probably won’t come as a surprise to anyone, but fireflies are unique in that they are one of the few organisms that are able to produce their own light.
Brendan
You’re talking about bioluminescence?
Adrianna
That’s right, bioluminescence. Oxygen inside the firefly’s light organ, or lantern, mixes with three other components: adenosine triphosphate (ATP), a molecule called luciferin and the enzyme luciferase. And researchers believe that different fireflies can give off different intensities of light that they’re producing based on the level of oxygen that’s being supplied to the light organ, to the lantern.
During that reaction, nearly all the energy is released as light, not heat. It’s one of the most energy-efficient light sources in nature.
Brendan
That’s really neat. I’m reading right now that they’ve even inspired energy-saving LED technologies. If Alex was still here I think she’d have a lot to say about biomimicry!
I see that one way LED designers have drawn from fireflies is by adding microscopic surface structures that help light escape more efficiently. In most LEDs, those structures are symmetrical, but fireflies have asymmetric, angled microstructures on their lanterns. This boosts light output in two ways: First, the greater surface area increases light interaction, so less of it gets trapped. And second, the uneven angles scatter the light more randomly, giving it more chances to exit. It’s really clever. I’ll send you the article. The close-up images are wild.
Adrianna
And kind of like how you can buy different color LEDs, there are different colors of light amongst fireflies.
Brendan
Oh, interesting. Is it involuntary? I was reading about how, we can get into this in a second, but how the light is used to signal and communicate, where males will have their own flash patterns and specific sequences. So is what you’re talking about the mechanism by which that is controlled or are we talking about two separate things?
Adrianna
We’re talking about two separate things. Oxygen and chemical regulation can vary between species, which is why you get different colors and hues of light from different species of firefly. Separately, yes, each firefly can control the sequence of signals it sends.
But, it’s important to note that some firefly species are active during the day instead of at night. They don’t produce light, so instead of flashing, they communicate using pheromones.
Brendan
Yeah, I saw something similar in a recent report, just a couple years old. So…what do you call a lightning bug that doesn’t light up? Just a bug?
I’ll be honest I’m not entirely sure where that leaves us.
Adrianna
Communication.
Brendan
Right. One of my more recent feature creature articles was about African gray parrots and I focused pretty much exclusively on the communication aspect because what I love about those birds is that their vocalizations are hyperlocal and they have their own dialects based on where they live in the forest. Almost like accents. And it almost seems like there’s a similar phenomenon going on here with this sort of language of light.
Photo by Jud McCranie. Butler Island Plantation, Georgia
Adrianna
Yes! There are around 2,000 species of fireflies, which is wild to think about. When multiple species live in the same area, they each occupy a specific “signaling niche.” That means they might share habitats, but they’ll come out at different times of night, and they use distinct flash patterns to communicate. So even if they’re in the same place, they’re not getting their signals crossed, each species is speaking its own visual language, on its own schedule.
Brendan
That’s such a cool thing to know. If you’re observing fireflies in your backyard or local area, you can probably start to notice patterns, like what time they come out, how they flash. And then maybe when you’re somewhere else in the summer, you could compare what you’re seeing and pick up on the differences. I’m not sure if there’s a whole firefly-watching community out there like birders, but it’s fun to think about!
I was reading that the whole thing is kind of like a dance, at least when it comes to mating. The males are the ones flying around, flashing their little signals like peacocks, trying to get attention. The females stay on the ground or in low vegetation, and if they spot a male they like, they flash back. That’s how they find each other and connect.
Adrianna
That’s right. The male sends a flash of light and then the female will see the signal from a male of her species, and they communicate and find each other. They navigate their way towards each other through those sequences of flashes.
Brendan
It’s almost melancholy though because when you see them you get excited but they’re at the end of their life basically if you see them flying around flashing, right?
Adrianna
Yep. I’m looking at a diagram now and they are eggs for about 3 weeks, in their larva stage for about one to two years, in their pupa stage for about three weeks, and then they’re adults for only three to four weeks.
Brendan
Okay now I read this in a few reports so I have a degree of confidence about it. In some species, like Photuris fireflies, the females will actually mimic the flash patterns of a different firefly species to lure in unsuspecting males. The male thinks he’s found a mate, but when he arrives, it’s a total bait-and-switch…she eats him instead. It’s a wild example of aggressive mimicry.
Adrianna
That’s crazy.
Brendan
Yeah. Who knew the life of the lightening bug could be so hostile. But I guess on that point, it can be a hostile life!
Adrianna
It can, for sure. I came across a recent Penn State project studying threats to fireflies, and one key point was how climate change is affecting their development. For many U.S. species, the seasonal temperature patterns they rely on (warmer summers and cooler winters) are shifting. Unseasonal heat or cold can disrupt their life cycles. Changing rainfall patterns are also a problem: both droughts and flooding can interfere with firefly development at different stages.
Brendan
That makes sense. Fireflies usually need some level of moisture, so drier conditions are definitely a concern. But the issue of light pollution stood out to me. As cities expand and the night gets brighter, the bioluminescent signals fireflies use to find mates can get drowned out. If the flashing is less visible, then males and females may just miss each other altogether.
It’s a reminder that habitat isn’t just about physical space, it’s also about light, temperature, and other environmental cues that species depend on.
Adrianna
Definitely. I’ve never lived in a city before and I think it’s been really interesting for me to notice those kinds of changes and to think about those kinds of shifts in what organisms I’m seeing and which organisms I’m not seeing. I was just home last weekend in upstate New York like Alexandra, and we were walking in the woods and there were fireflies everywhere. And then I come back to D.C., where I’m living this summer, and it’s just very different.
Brendan
I didn’t see many fireflies when I lived in D.C. either, and I think that makes sense. When you’re out of the city, you can look up and see the stars clearly. But in the city, even on a clear night, you look up and the stars are hidden by all the light. And I think it’s probably the same for fireflies. To our eyes, a star and a firefly are about the same size. If we can’t see the stars, we’re not going to see the lightning bugs either. And more importantly, they might not see each other.
I’m sure pesticides are a factor too, but light pollution alone feels like a big deal.
Photo by Bernd Thaller. Graz, Austria
Brendan
Bringing this full circle, I’ve been thinking about how deeply embedded fireflies are in our collective memory, especially for those of us who grew up in suburban or rural areas in the U.S. They’re not like pets, exactly, but I’d still put them up there with cats and dogs in terms of how familiar and emotionally resonant they are. Almost everyone seems to have a memory: running barefoot through the yard at dusk, chasing little flashes of light, maybe at a cookout or camping trip. All of mine are social. Playing with friends, watching them float above the grass while the adults talked nearby. Even now, fireflies still feel special. You can’t be alone in the woods at night if there are fireflies all around.
There’s something about them that’s instantly nostalgic. Mention catching one in a jar and people don’t need an explanation…they just nod, like, “Yeah, I remember that.”
Adrianna
Yeah, and going back to how Alex opened this conversation with that contrast between fireflies and fireworks. On one hand, you’ve got fireflies, which have this quiet, calming, joyful presence. And then on the other, fireworks, which are loud and disruptive to so many living things. It’s just a really different kind of relationship you can have with each of them.
Adrianna Drindak is a rising senior at Dartmouth College studying Environmental Earth Sciences and Environmental Studies. Prior to interning at Bio4Climate, she worked as a field technician studying ovenbirds at Hubbard Brook Experimental Forest and as a laboratory technician in an ecology lab. Adrianna is currently an undergraduate researcher in the Quaternary Geology Lab at Dartmouth, with a specific focus on documenting climate history and past glaciations in the northeast region of the United States. This summer, Adrianna is looking forward to applying her science background to an outreach role, and is excited to brainstorm ways to make science more accessible. In her free time, Adrianna enjoys reading, baking gluten free treats, hiking, and backpacking.
Alexandra Ionescu is a Certified Biomimicry Professional, Ecological Artist and 2024 SUGi Fellow. Her aim is to inspire learning from and about diverse non-human intelligences, cultivating propensities for ecosystem regeneration through co-existence, collaboration and by making the invisible visible. She hopes to motivate others to ask “How can humans give back to the web of life?” by raising awareness of biodiversity and natural cycles to challenge human-centric infrastructures. At present, Alexandra is immersed in expanding her knowledge of ecological restoration through Miyawaki forests, beaver-engineered landscapes, and constructed floating wetlands. In her spare time, Alexandra is part of the Below and Above Collective, an interdisciplinary group that combines art with ecological functionality to build constructed floating wetlands.
Brendan Kelly began his career teaching conservation education programs at the Columbus Zoo and Aquarium before relocating to Washington, DC. Since then, he has spent a decade as a journalist and policy communications strategist, designing and driving narratives for an array of political, advocacy, and institutional campaigns, including in the renewable energy and sustainable architecture spaces. Most recently before joining Bio4Climate, Brendan was working in tech, helping early and growth stage startups tell their stories and develop industry thought leadership. He is interested in how the intersection of informal education, mass communications and marketing can be retooled to drive relatable, accessible climate action. While he loves all ecosystems equally, he is admittedly partial to those in the alpine.
What animal is the largest of the wild goat species, whose name means “snake eater” in Persian, and is the national animal of Pakistan?
An adult male markhor at the Stone Zoo, Stoneham, Massachusetts Image credit: Sienna Weinstein
Not Your Average Billy Goat
While interning at the Stone Zoo in Stoneham, Massachusetts, one of my duties involved filling up large black food bowls with a carefully measured mix of various feed for the zoo’s markhor. Prior to this internship, I had never heard of this fascinating species of bovid. The males were majestic with their artistically-curved horns and strikingly-bearded chin; so of course, my lunch break that day was spent photographing these amazing animals. This was no easy task, as these creatures had the habit of moving just out of sight around their enclosure as soon as my camera was properly set. However, persistence paid off, and I managed to snap a few photos during the brief moments when the markhors obliged me by standing still.
At 4.5-6.2 feet (1.37-1.89 m) long, with females typically weighing between 70 and 88 pounds (39.9 kg), with some weighing upwards of 100 (45.4 kg) or 110 lbs (49.9 kg) and males weighing up to 242 pounds (110 kg), the markhor is the largest of all wild goat species. Males release a pungent odor which has been described as stronger than that of domestic goats, and is used to repel predators, mark territory, and as a natural cologne to attract females during the breeding season.
There are a few examples of sexual dimorphism, or noticeable physical differences between genders, among markhor. Besides their differences in size, males have a longer coat, especially around the chin, throat, chest, and shanks. Females are typically redder in color compared with males, have shorter hair and beards, and lack the majestic mane males display along their neck. Both genders also sport an impressive set of corkscrew-like horns, which measure up to 10 inches (0.25 m) for females, but can exceed an astonishing 5 feet (1.52 m) for males!
What’s In a Name? A lot for the Markhor!
Found primarily in Pakistan, parts of Afghanistan, and the mountain ranges of the Himalayas and Karakoram, the markhor is the national animal of Pakistan. In Pakistan, the markhor is known as the “screw-horn”, or “screw-horned goat.” The Persian words “mar” and “khor” mean “snake” and “eater”, respectively, leading to the moniker “snake eater” or “snake killer”. This moniker is in reference to the ancient belief that the markhor would actively kill and consume snakes! (Which is not correct–markhors are herbivores.) This regional myth is believed to stem from the “snake-like” form of the male’s horns, curling and twisting like a snake, possibly leading ancient peoples of the area to associate them with these limbless reptiles.
Capra falconeri distribution, Shackleton, 1997
Native to the mountainous regions of South and Central Asia, the markhor has evolved powerful and flexible hooves with hard, large outer edges and softer centers to grip the rocky surfaces of the terrain. Their hooves allow them to scale sheer cliffs and escape predators such as Eurasian lynx, wolves, and snow leopards.
The markhor plays a crucial role within its ecosystem by contributing to the health of their mountainous habitat. Keeping the native plants in check, the markhor controls the growth of certain vegetation through their eating habits, even climbing trees to reach the tastiest bits. Markhors spend more than half of their day grazing, about 12–14 hours on average! They mostly feed on grass in the warmer months, but upon the arrival of winter, they switch to other plants, including shrubs and twigs. This seasonal shift from grazing (eating grasses and low vegetation) to browsing (eating leaves, shrubs, and woody plants) helps balance plant communities at different heights and root structures, which supports more diverse insect, bird, and herbivore populations. Their feeding habits prevent overgrazing and help to promote biodiversity by allowing a range of plant life to flourish.
A female markhor and her kid at the Stone Zoo, Stoneham, Massachusetts Image credit: Sienna Weinstein
An Icon Under Threat
Despite their impressive adaptations, generally majestic appearance, ecological importance, and status in Pakistan, the markhor faces numerous threats to survival. Listed as Near Threatened on the IUCN Red List, the markhor is hunted for their meat, skin, and horns. Across their range, overhunting and poaching have negatively impacted their populations. In addition, habitat degradation due to excessive wood cutting for fuel, as well as increased grazing by livestock leading to competition, and even hybridization between species, have further contributed to the markhor’s decline. Numerous conservation actions have been proposed via the markhor’s webpage on the IUCN Red List, and only time will tell whether potential collaboration between the locals of the region, government bodies, and conservationists can save this icon of the South and Central Asian mountains.
It required persistence and patience for my photos of the markhor to come to fruition before the individuals slipped away and out of sight. Similarly, persistence and patience must be employed in order to ensure that the species as a whole doesn’t slip away permanently.
Sienna Weinstein is a wildlife photographer, zoologist, and lifelong advocate for the conservation of wildlife across the globe. She earned her B.S. in Zoology from the University of Vermont, followed by a M.S. degree in Environmental Studies with a concentration in Conservation Biology from Antioch University New England. While earning her Bachelor’s degree, Sienna participated in a study abroad program in South Africa and Eswatini (formerly Swaziland), taking part in fieldwork involving species abundance and diversity in the southern African ecosystem. She is also an official member of the Upsilon Tau chapter of the Beta Beta Beta National Biological Honor Society.
Deciding at the end of her academic career that she wanted to grow her natural creativity and hobby of photography into something more, Sienna dedicated herself to the field of wildlife conservation communication as a means to promote the conservation of wildlife. Her photography has been credited by organizations including The Nature Conservancy, Zoo New England, and the Smithsonian’s National Zoo and Conservation Biology Institute. She was also an invited reviewer of an elephant ethology lesson plan for Picture Perfect STEM Lessons (May 2017) by NSTA Press. Along with writing for Bio4Climate, she is also a volunteer writer for the New England Primate Conservancy. In her free time, she enjoys playing video games, watching wildlife documentaries, photographing nature and wildlife, and posting her work on her LinkedIn profile. She hopes to create a more professional portfolio in the near future.
What animal, despite having the same number of vertebrae, has a neck longer than the average human, has spot patterns as unique between individuals as our fingerprints, and despite their gentle appearance, can kill lions with a karate-style kick!?
A tower of Reticulated giraffes (G. reticulata) Image credit: Bird Explorers via iNaturalist (CC-BY-NC)
Some might say this is quite the… tall order for my very first Featured Creature profile! (Hold the applause!)
One of my earliest memories regarding these unique icons of the African savanna was when I was around five years old. My parents and I were visiting the Southwick Zoo in Mendon, Massachusetts, when we came upon the giraffe enclosure. One of these quiet, lanky creatures lowered its head across the fence bordering the enclosure, and licked my dad on the face with its looooong, black tongue! Once the laughter had died down, a flood of questions rushed into my head:
Why DOES the giraffe have such a long neck?
How do they sleep at night?
And what’s the deal with those black tongues?
A Tall-Walking, Awkwardly-Galloping African Animal
Their scattered range in sub-Saharan Africa extends from Chad in the north to South Africa in the south, and from Niger in the west to Somalia in the east. Within this range, giraffes typically live in savannahs and open woodlands, where their food sources include leaves, fruits, and flowers of woody plants. Giraffes primarily consume material of the acacia species, which they browse at heights most other ground-based herbivores can’t reach. Fully-grown giraffes stand at 14-19 feet (4.3-5.7 m) tall, with males taller than females. The average weight is 2,628 pounds (1,192 kg) for an adult male, while an adult female weighs on average 1,825 pounds (828 kg).
A giraffe’s front legs tend to be longer than the hind legs, and males have proportionally longer front legs than females. This trait gives them better support when swinging their necks during fights over females.
Giraffes have only two gaits: walking and galloping. When galloping, the hind legs move around the front legs before the latter move forward. The movements of the head and neck provide balance and control momentum while galloping. Despite their size, and their arguably cumbersome gallop, giraffes can reach a sprint speed of up to 37 miles per hour (60 km/h), and can sustain 31 miles per hour (50 km/h) for up to 1.2 miles (2 km).
Herd of giraffes running in Tanzania, Africa
When it’s not eating or galavanting across the savanna, a giraffe rests by lying with its body on top of its folded legs. When you’re 18 feet tall, some things are easier said than done. To lie down is something of a tedious balancing act. The giraffe first kneels on its front legs, then lowers the rest of its body. To get back up, it first gets on its front knees and positions its backside on top of its hind legs. Then, it pulls the backside upwards, and the front legs stand straight up again. At each stage, the individual swings its head for balance. To drink water from a low source such as a waterhole, a giraffe will either spread its front legs or bend its knees. Studies involving captive giraffes found they sleep intermittently up to 4.6 hours per day, and needing as little as 30 minutes a day in the wild. The studies also recorded that giraffes usually sleep lying down; however, “standing sleeps” have been recorded, particularly in older individuals.
Cameleopard
The term “cameleopard” is an archaic English portmanteau for the giraffe, which derives from “camel” and “leopard”, referring to its camel-like shape and leopard-like coloration. Giraffes are not closely related to either camels or leopards. Rather, they are just one of two members of the family Giraffidae, the other being the okapi. Giraffes are the tallest ruminants (cud-chewers) and are in the order Artiodactyla, or “even-toed ungulates”.
A giraffe’s coat contains cream or white-colored hair, covered in dark blotches or patches which can be brown, chestnut, orange, or nearly black. Scientists theorize the coat pattern serves as camouflage within the light and shade patterns of the savannah woodlands. And just like our fingerprints, every giraffe has a unique coat pattern!
The tongue is black and about 18 inches (45 cm) long, able to grasp foliage and delicately pick off leaves. Biologists thinks that the tongue’s coloration protects it against sunburn, given the large amount of time it spends in the fresh air, poking and prodding for something to eat. Acacia giraffes are known for having thorny branches, and the giraffe has a flexible, hairy upper lip to protect against the sharp prickles.
Both genders have prominent horn-like structures called ossicones, which can reach 5.3 inches (13.5 cm), and are used in male-to-male combat. These ossicones offer a reliable way to age and sex a giraffe: the ossicones of females and young are thin and display tufts of hair on top, whereas those of adult males tend to be bald and knobbed on top.
An elderly adult male Masai giraffe at the Franklin Park Zoo, Boston, Massachusetts Image credit: Sienna Weinstein
There is still some debate over just why the giraffe evolved such a long neck. The possible theories include the “necks-for-sex” hypothesis, in which evolution of long necks was driven by competition among males, who duke it out in “necking” battles over females, versus the high nutritional needs for (pregnant and lactating) females. A 2024 study by Pennsylvania State University found that both were essentially acceptable! Check out the graphic below for a good visualization.
A graphic summarizing the evolution of the giraffe’s body based on gender needs Image credit: Penn State University, CC-BY-NC-ND 4.0
A Flagship AND Keystone Species
Alongside other noteworthy African savanna species, such as elephants and rhinoceroses, giraffes are considered a flagship species, well-known organisms that represent ecosystems, used to raise awareness and support for conservation, and helping to protect the habitats in which they’re found. As one of the many creatures that generate public interest and support for various conservation efforts in habitats around the world, giraffes have a significant role.
Giraffes, like elephants and rhinos, are also classified as a keystone species–one that plays a crucial role in maintaining the health and diversity of their native ecosystems, as their actions significantly impact the environment and other species. What is it that giraffes do that impacts their local ecosystems and environment? By browsing vegetation high up in the trees, they open up areas around the bases of trees to promote the growth of other plants, creating microhabitats for other species. In addition, through their dung and urine, they help distribute nutrients throughout their habitat. Some acacia seedlings don’t even sprout and grow until they’ve passed through a giraffe’s digestive system! By protecting giraffes, we also contribute to protecting other plant and animal species of the African savanna and open woodlands!
The Life We Share
The woodlands and grasslands where giraffes live are shaped in part by those long necks and unique feeding habits. As they browse high in the canopy, they open up space for other plants and animals to thrive. These ecosystems aren’t something we built, they’re something we’re lucky to witness. And if we have a role to play, maybe it’s simply to make sure our presence doesn’t undo the work that nature is already doing so well.
Sienna Weinstein is a wildlife photographer, zoologist, and lifelong advocate for the conservation of wildlife across the globe. She earned her B.S. in Zoology from the University of Vermont, followed by a M.S. degree in Environmental Studies with a concentration in Conservation Biology from Antioch University New England. While earning her Bachelor’s degree, Sienna participated in a study abroad program in South Africa and Eswatini (formerly Swaziland), taking part in fieldwork involving species abundance and diversity in the southern African ecosystem. She is also an official member of the Upsilon Tau chapter of the Beta Beta Beta National Biological Honor Society.
Deciding at the end of her academic career that she wanted to grow her natural creativity and hobby of photography into something more, Sienna dedicated herself to the field of wildlife conservation communication as a means to promote the conservation of wildlife. Her photography has been credited by organizations including The Nature Conservancy, Zoo New England, and the Smithsonian’s National Zoo and Conservation Biology Institute. She was also an invited reviewer of an elephant ethology lesson plan for Picture Perfect STEM Lessons (May 2017) by NSTA Press. Along with writing for Bio4Climate, she is also a volunteer writer for the New England Primate Conservancy. In her free time, she enjoys playing video games, watching wildlife documentaries, photographing nature and wildlife, and posting her work on her LinkedIn profile. She hopes to create a more professional portfolio in the near future.
What creature used to live on the ground but now hangs in trees, has hair that grows in the opposite direction than most mammals, and turns green because of the algae that thrives in their fur?
Would you be surprised if I told you that sloths aren’t lazy, but slow and careful?
Sloths have been labeled as some of the laziest animals due to their slow movements and the (unfair and misguided) assumption that they sleep all day. This belief isn’t helped by the fact that the word sloth literally means “laziness,” as does its common name in many other languages. But as we’ll learn, there’s a lot more to this creature than meets the eye, and their chill, methodical nature is actually a quite ingenious survival mechanism.
The six surviving species of sloths are categorized into two groups: Bradypus, the three-toed sloths, and Choloepus, the two-toed sloths. Even with this naming, all sloths have three toes on their back limbs – whereas two-toed sloths only have two digits on their front limbs. Both groups descend from ancestors that were mostly terrestrial (meaning they lived on the ground) that existed about 28 million years ago. Some of them reached sizes rivaling those of elephants! The sizes of modern sloths vary, with three-toed sloths typically ranging from 60-80 cm in length (24-31 inches) and weighing between 3.6-7.7 kg (8-17 lbs), while two-toed sloths can be slightly larger, particularly in weight.
Found in the tropical rainforests of Central and South America, you can identify them by their rounded heads, tiny ears, and a facial structure that makes them look like they’re always smiling. They have stubby tails and long limbs ending in curved claws that, historically used for digging, now work with specialized tendons and a grip strength that is twice as strong as a humans to climb tree trunks and hang upside down from branches effortlessly. It is believed that over time, sloths evolved into a suspensory lifestyle to have easy access to plentiful food (mainly leaves), stay safe from predators (like jaguars and ocelots), and conserve energy.
Sloths have a very low metabolism, meaning their bodies take quite a while to turn food into energy, thus the characteristically sluggish pace. Sloths move at about 4 yards per minute, and in an entire day, they may cover only around 120 feet, which is less than half the length of a football field. These languid movements are the reason why sloths can survive on a relatively low-energy diet, like leaves. While three-toed sloths are almost entirely herbivorous, two-toed sloths have an omnivorous diet that includes insects, fruits, and small lizards.
Even though leaves are the main food source for sloths, they provide very little nutrients and don’t digest easily. These lethargic tree-dwellers have large, slow-acting, multi-chambered stomachs that work for weeks to break down tough leaves. In fact, up to two thirds of a well-fed sloth’s body weight consists of the contents of its stomach. What other animals can digest in hours takes sloths days or weeks to process! Due to their slow digestion, sloths descend every week or so to defecate on the ground. Why exactly they do this is still a mystery to scientists, especially because sloths are at much more risk to predators on the ground.
Did you know that baby sloths learn what to eat by licking the lips of their mother?
Perhaps one of the most fascinating things about our slow-moving friends is what lives in their fur. Believe it or not, it’s a miniature world! Acting as a mobile home for a variety of different insect, fungi, and microbial species, sloths are, in fact, thriving ecosystems. But first, let’s set the scene.
Sloth fur grows in the opposite direction than it does on other animals. Normally, hair will grow towards the arms and legs, but because sloths spend so much of their lives upside down in the canopy with their limbs above their bodies (eating, sleeping, even giving birth hanging upside down), their fur grows away from their extremities and towards their bodies, giving them protection from the elements.
The layered and grooved structure of sloths’ shaggy coat is the perfect environment to host many species of commensal beetles, mites, moths, fungi, as well as a symbiotic green algae. While the sloths don’t directly consume and gain nutrients from the algae (legend held for many years that sloths were so lazy, they’d rather eat the algae off their back than search for food), its presence helps protect the sloths from predators by aiding in their camouflage, hiding them from predators like harpy eagles.
Sloths are an integral part of tropical rainforest ecosystems. They regulate plant growth through their consumption of leaves, provide a unique habitat for smaller organisms like algae and moths in their fur, and contribute to nutrient cycling by depositing their feces on the forest floor, dispersing seeds and fertilizing new plant growth.
Some species of sloths are at risk because of deforestation, contact with electrical lines, and poaching and animal trafficking. The health of these creatures is wholly dependent on the health of the tropical rainforest. If their habitat begins to deteriorate, sloths are forced to live elsewhere in places that cannot support healthy populations.
Luckily, The World Wildlife Fund (WWF) works with communities, governments, and organizations to encourage sustainable forestry, and collaborates to expand areas of forests under responsible management. WWF has worked with the Brazilian government since 2003 on the Amazon Region Protected Areas (ARPA) initiative, helping it become one of the largest conservation projects in the world. Not to mention, The Sloth Institute of Costa Rica is known for caring, rehabilitating, and releasing sloths back into the wild.
Northern Atlantic Forest Three-toed Sloth, Bradypus variegatus (Image Credit: Kevin Araujo via iNaturalist (CC-BY-NC))
More than meets the eye
While sloths are well-known for their slow-moving pace and are labeled as lazy, to believe that that is the only notable thing about them is largely inaccurate. Similar to how judging a person based on one aspect of their personality is not an accurate judgment of their character, judging sloths based on their sluggishness is not an accurate judgment of sloths as creatures. It overlooks how they’ve adapted from life on the ground to life in the trees, how they use their muscles and long claws to hang upside down and save a ton of energy, their role as ecosystem engineers, how they create habitats for other organisms, and how they help maintain the health of the forest.
So the next time we come across a creature – whether in the wild or at a sanctuary – we might ask, “What else can this creature do?”
Abigail Gipson is an environmental advocate with a bachelor’s degree in humanitarian studies from Fordham University. Working to protect the natural world and its inhabitants, Abigail is specifically interested in environmental protection, ecosystem-based adaptation, and the intersection of climate change with human rights and animal welfare. She loves autumn, reading, and gardening.
Sometimes the smallest creatures hide the largest secrets/mysteries. At just about 10 inches long and weighing up to 2 pounds, the slow loris is, in my opinion, no exception. This small, tailless primate with large (and iconic) moon-like eyes inhabits rainforests. As omnivores, slow lorises feed on both fruit and insects. There are nine species total, all inhabiting the Southeast region of Asia ranging from the islands of Java and Borneo to Vietnam and China.
True to their name, slow lorises are not light on their feet and move slowly. Despite this, slow lorises are not related to sloths, but are instead more closely related to lemurs. But in the rainforest, that’s not such a bad thing. Their leisurely, creeping gait helps them conserve energy and ambush their insect prey without being detected.
Adaptations
Living in the dense, verdant rainforest isn’t for everyone.The jungle is riddled with serpentine vines, thick vegetation, and towering trees. But slow lorises have developed multiple adaptations that allow them to thrive in such an environment.
Their fur markings serve as a warning to other animals that they are not to be trifled with. This is known as aposematic colouration. Similar to skunks, contrasting fur colors and shapes signal that they are venomous which makes predators think twice about attacking.
Slow lorises are nocturnal, and those large eyes allow them to significantly dilate their pupils, letting in more light and allowing them to easily see in near total darkness.
Even eating is no small feat in the rainforest. Slow lorises have specialized bottom front teeth, called a toothcomb. The grouping of long, thin teeth acts like a hair comb, allowing the slow loris to strip strong bark and uncover nutritious tree gum or sap. Equipped with an impressively strong grip, they can hang upside down and use their dexterous feet to hold onto branches while reaching for fruit just out of reach for most other animals. A network of capillaries called retia mirabilia allows them to do this without losing feeling in their limbs. With these adaptations, slow lorises are ideally suited for a life among the trees.
Slow lorises are the only venomous primate on Earth. They have brachial glands located in the crook of their elbow that secrete a toxic oil. When deploying the toxin, they lick this gland to venomize their saliva for a potent bite. And no one is safe– slow lorises use this venom on predators, and even each other. Fiercely territorial, they are one of the few species known to use venom on their own kind. In studying this behavior, scientists have found many slow lorises, especially young males, to have bite wounds.
The venom can be used as a protective, preventative defense mechanism as well. Female slow lorises have been observed licking their young to cover them in toxic saliva in hopes of deterring predators while they leave their babies in the safety of a tree to forage.
Whether you’re a natural predator, human, or another slow loris, a bite is very painful. Humans will experience pain from the strong bite, then a tingling sensation, followed by extreme swelling of the face and the start of anaphylactic shock. It can be fatal if not treated in time with epinephrine.
There are two major threats to slow loris populations – the illegal pet trade and habitat destruction. Because of their unique cuteness, soft fur, and small size, these creatures are often sold as illegal pets. Poachers will use flashlights to stun and capture the nocturnal slow loris, clip or remove their teeth to avoid harmful bites to humans and, because of their endearing, teddy bear-like appearance, sell them off as pets. Slow lorises are nocturnal and not able to withstand the stress of being forced to be awake during the daytime. They are also often not fed a proper diet of fruit, tree sap, and insects which leads to nutritional deficiencies and poor health.
Habitat loss from agricultural expansion is another threat. As farms grow, slow loris habitat shrinks. Land cleared to plant crops encroaches upon the rainforest which results in less territory and food sources for the slow loris.
However, one scientist found a way to reduce the canopy-loss from farming and restore slow loris territory. After observing wild slow lorises using above-ground water pipes to traverse farmland, researcher Anna Nekaris had an idea. Through her organization, the Little Fireface Project, she worked with local farmers to add more water pipes to act as bridges for slow lorises to use to move about the area. These unnatural vines provided a highway connecting isolated spots of jungle to each other. Not only did the slow loris population benefit by gaining more arboreal access to trees and food sources, but the community also benefited. Nekaris worked with the farmers to provide more water pipes to their land while showing human-animal conflict can have a mutually beneficial solution.
Every species of slow lorises is threatened, according to the IUCN, which monitors wild populations. Slow lorises may seem like an odd and somewhat unimportant creature on the grand ecological scale, but they are very important pollinators. When feeding on flowers, sap, or fruit, they are integral in spreading pollen and seeds across the forest. Through foraging and dispersal, slow lorises maintain the health of the ecosystem’s flora.
The slow loris garners attention for its cute looks, but beneath its fuzzy face and moon-like eyes, is a creature connected to the/its environment. Slow lorises are a perfect example of how species are tethered to their habitat in an integral way – their existence directly impacts forest propagation. As a pollinator, they disperse pollen stuck on their fur to new areas and increase genetic diversity throughout the forest. Slow lorises are proof of Earth’s interconnectedness.
To see the slow loris in action climbing from tree to tree and foraging for food, watch this short video.
Climbing up and away for now, Joely
Joely Hart is a wildlife enthusiast writing to inspire curiosity about Earth’s creatures. She holds a Bachelor’s degree in creative writing from the University of Central Florida and has a special interest in obscure, lesser-known species.
Five times the size of New York’s Central Park, Casa de Campo (literally, “country house”) outside Madrid is filled with rustic stone pine trees – emblematic of the Mediterranean and easily identified by their bare trunks and full, blooming crown of pine needles. It’s sometimes called the “umbrella pine” for good reason. Above, within, around, and beneath these trees, nearly 200 species of vertebrates live.
Out for a run through the park, my feet pounded the dry dirt along a gradual decline for the last mile. Here, the earthen trail dipped down steeply and cut through dense brush. As I dropped in, I almost landed squarely on top of what appeared to be a large rabbit. To my surprise, it didn’t dart away; I think I was more startled than it was. You see, I’d set out on that run in part to find inspiration, follow my curiosity, and think of a creature I wanted to learn more about. I’m not such a strong believer in fate, but this rabbit (or so I thought at the time) had certainly made its case.
I lingered and watched it mill around the brush. The more I watched, the more I wondered about its story.
A Keystone Species On The Iberian Peninsula
The Iberian hare (Lepus granatensis) is endemic, or native, to the entire peninsula that contains Spain, Portugal, and the enclave nation of Andorra. Throughout that region they can be found in diverse habitats including dry Mediterranean scrublands, woodlands, and agricultural fields. It thrives in regions with ample vegetation that offer cover and food, adapting well to the peninsula’s varied landscapes, which range from dry, hot areas to slightly cooler, temperate zones. In some respects, Casa de Campo itself is a microcosm of these environments.
Lepus granatensis is a keystone species, meaning it occupies an essential link in the ecosystem’s food chain and plays a particularly outsized role in balancing its environment. It survives on a diet of grasses, leaves, and shoots, playing a crucial role in seed dispersal and vegetation control – and is a source of prey for a range of birds and mammals. The hare’s diet and grazing habits help control plant overgrowth and support a diverse plant community, evidenced in Casa de Campo by the more than 600,000 plant specimens found in the park alone.
The open ground this hare navigates every day is patrolled by animals who want to eat her– lynx, coyote, and red foxes from the land and eagles, owls, hawks, and red kites from the air. To get from point A to point B she must be fast, and she is. Powerful hind legs propel Lepus granatensis to top sprinting speeds of 45-50 miles-per-hour, making her one of the fastest land animals on the peninsula. It’s a pace that puts my nine-minute mile to shame, and is an essential adaptation to survive here, far from the relative safety of dense forest or lush meadow.
Casa de Campo, a 4,257 acre park on the edge of Madrid, boasts more that 600,000 plant specimens and nearly 200 species of vertebrates. Image by author, who was apparently far too busy taking pictures instead of running while on his run.
Nature’s Air Conditioning
When I first started coming to Madrid, adapting to the sparing or non-existent use of air conditioning in the summer was an adventure, to say the least. I can do without the Chipotle and readily available iced coffee, but having been raised on A/C since I was born, it took some getting used to. Unlike me in this regard, the hare I ran into that day is well suited to her environment. It is one of large, open landscapes dotted with thick low lying brush, olive trees, holm oaks, and pines. Rainfall is infrequent, and summers are scorched by the strong Spanish sun.
Her ears are larger and thinner than those of a rabbit. They often stand upright. When backlit, one can easily make out a network of veins and arteries, traversing the ear like rivers and streams through a watershed.
An unidentified leporid (family of rabbits and hares) displaying the network of arteries and veins that help transfer heat from warm blood to the surrounding air, keeping her cool. Image by author.
Therein lies her secret. Hares don’t perspire like you and me– nor do they pant like a canine. Instead, they depend on their large, thin-skinned ears to act as thermostat and air conditioner. No, they don’t flap them like a paper fan. Instead, they help her cool down by getting hotter.
When the hare needs to release excess heat, she can expand that network of blood vessels in her ears, allowing her to redirect hot blood away from her body and through the thin skin of her ears. Because her ears have a large surface area putting those veins in closer contact to the ambient air, this increased blood flow facilitates the dissipation of heat into the ever so slightly cooler surrounding air, helping her regulate her body temperature effectively.
We see this strategy of counter-current thermoregulation in nature again and again, in the ears of elephants and deer, and a variation in the snow and ice-bound paws of the arctic fox.
Thermal imaging demonstrating how heat retention and dissipation in rabbits is concentrated through the ears. Image credit: V. Redialli, et al., 2008
This thermal video clearly illustrates the heat disparity between a rabbit’s ears, and the rest of its body.
Confronting a Microscopic Threat
Before I continued my run, I fired off a few observations to a zoologist friend of mine for help with the species identification. Among them was what we suspected to be a bad case of conjunctivitis in both eyes; significant levels of swelling and discharge were present.
While neither of us can offer a certain diagnosis for this particular hare, further research has indicated that something more serious is afoot.
In 1952, France was well into its post-war reconstruction, buoyed along by a growing economy and population. As the country was just beginning a new chapter in its story, so too was recently retired physician Dr. Paul-Félix Armand-Delille. In his new-found free time, Armand-Delille took up great interest in the pristine care and management of the grounds of his estate, Château Maillebois, in the department of Eure-et-Loir, a little more than 100km west of Paris.
Troubled by the presence of wild European rabbits (Oryctolagus cuniculus) on his property, Armand-Delille read about the success Australian farmers had found using strains of the myxoma virus to control invasive rabbit species on that continent (they’d been imported by an Englishman decades earlier). Using his old medical connections, Armand-Delille secured some myxoma virus for himself and intentionally infected and released two of the rabbits on his property, confident that they would not be able to leave it.
In just one year, nearly half of all wild rabbits in France would be dead, consumed by myxomatosis, the disease caused by the myxoma virus. In the decades since, the disease has ravaged Oryctolagus cuniculus populations across Europe, shrinking their numbers to just a fraction of what they were at mid-century. The sudden, near overnight disappearance of the European rabbit also crippled populations of its specialist predator, the Iberian lynx (Lynx pardinus). With the lynx unable to replace the rabbit in its diet, the species was pushed to the brink of extinction. Recent conservation efforts have helped recover and stabilize populations, but Lynx pardinus remains a “vulnerable” species.
Fortunately, over just the last few decades some populations of the European rabbit have resurged, having developed strong resistance to the virus.
But viruses are always trying, though usually failing, to jump from one host species to another. As species migrate and habitats converge, a virus gets more and more chances to make the leap.
As early as 2018, myxoma succeeded in making the leap from Oryctolagus cuniculus to Lepus granatensis. The virus that causes myxomatosis has wreaked havoc on Iberian hare populations on the peninsula; a species that did not have the advantage of decades and decades of exposure to build up resistance. Myxomatosis can cause fever, lesions, lethargy, and, it turns out, severe swelling and discharge around the eyes. Sometimes these symptoms can subside. But for the Iberian hare the virus is remarkably lethal, with a mean mortality rate of about 70%. Data indicates that since 2018, the virus has decimated Iberian hare populations. This break in the chain has serious implications for both the vegetation the hare keeps in check and the predators that depend on the hare as prey – implications that we are only beginning to understand.
The impact of myxomatosis outbreaks on Iberian hare populations after the 2018 species jump event. Image credit: Cardoso B, et al.
As a warming world continues to heat Iberia, the delicately balanced ecosystem Lepus granatensis inhabits is increasingly jeopardized. More intense storms flood the parched terrain while stifling heat and wildfires threaten vegetation. Lepus granatensis is likely to migrate north in search of more tolerable environments that can sustain the plant life it depends on for both food and cover. The further north the hare goes, the more its new habitat will overlap with the European rabbit and other species. The future of large populations of Lepus granatensis in the face of this disease and increasing climate fallout is uncertain. Since returning to Casa de Campo, I’ve noticed the swelling and discharge in other leporids as well.
Lepus granatensis Image credit: JoseVi More Díaz (CC-BY-NC-ND)
Complexity
This isn’t the story I set out to tell. When I stumbled on the hare, I expected to write an essay about reconnecting with nature as I embarked on my own new journey as part of the Bio4Climate team.
Transitioning from a place of hope and curiosity, to understanding the more dire situation faced by both the hare I crossed paths with and the species as a whole was deflating. Yet, that’s all part of nature’s complexity; we don’t always get the happy endings we want. To some extent, these aren’t our stories to write. But even that conclusion is built around a false premise, because none of these stories are over.
The recent outbreak has prompted renewed research interest into threats facing hare populations. And even if we distill the bigger story down to this specific hare, I don’t know what will become of her. No, the odds aren’t great. But in the time that I watched her she simply carried on, foraging away in the brush. It’s a small thing to observe, but I think there’s hope in that— in identifying the struggle and the resilience of living things, and channeling that understanding to shape a better world.
It’s hard not to think about the web of plants, animals, ecosystems, and microscopic organisms that have been set on a collision course with each other as they seek to rebalance themselves. And in the middle of it all is us.
After watching the hare for a few minutes, I continued my run. The trail led out of the brush and opened up into a large, flat field, sparingly dotted with those umbrella pines. At that moment, a bird I later identified in iNaturalist as a red kite (Milvus milvus) dropped out of one of the trees, skimmed the earth, and climbed into the sky.
Brendan began his career teaching conservation education programs at the Columbus Zoo and Aquarium. He is interested in how the intersection of informal education, mass communications and marketing can be retooled to drive relatable, accessible climate action. While he loves all ecosystems equally, he is admittedly partial to those in the alpine.
The chevrotain is an incredibly unique animal native to India and Southeast Asia. This creature is just 12 inches tall and about 29 inches long – the size of a rabbit. It weighs approximately 4-11 pounds and sports a reddish-chestnut brown coat with white markings on its chest. The chevrotain is the world’s smallest hoofed mammal. The chevrotain is also called the mouse-deer, but is not related to either a mouse or deer. Entirely a species of its own, the chevrotain is a one-of-a-kind creature.
There are ten species of chevrotain, nine of which reside in Asia while one – the water chevrotain – is native to Africa, spanning from Southern Benin to the Democratic Republic of Congo. This particular species lives near rivers and lakes as its name implies. When threatened, the water chevrotain will submerge itself underwater for up to four minutes to escape a predator. All chevrotains are very small with the tiniest being the lesser Malay chevrotain at 4 pounds and the largest being the water chevrotain at 33 pounds.
These miniature ungulates are herbivores and feed on vegetation like grasses, leaves, roots, flowers, and fruit. The chevrotain is a ruminant and has a 4 chambered stomach similar to that of a cow’s. This stomach helps digest fibrous plant material and extract nutrients from plant matter. Chevrotains inhabit jungles and forage for low hanging and fallen fruit as well as ground plants that are easy to reach due to their short stature.
Fangs
Despite looking like mini-deer, chevrotains do not have antlers. Instead, they have elongated incisors. In males, these teeth protrude beyond the mouth like tusks which are used when fighting. Chevrotains also use their long fangs to expose roots for consumption.
Chevrotains are known for being solitary, quiet, and difficult to find amongst dense forests. One species in particular has remained hidden from scientists for nearly 30 years – until recently. The silver-backed chevrotain, native to Vietnam, had not been seen for decades, despite camera traps and excursions to find the creature. But in 2017, that all changed. A camera trap captured the elusive silver-backed chevrotain, the first sighting since 1990. Still, so little is known about this species that the IUCN has assigned the status of “data deficient”.
Conservation ensures that no species is lost to history and reinforces the importance of a diverse ecosystem where every organism has a vital role to play. Even when all hope seems lost, life finds a way.
Treading quietly away for now, Joely
Joely Hart is a wildlife enthusiast writing to inspire curiosity about Earth’s creatures. She holds a Bachelor’s degree in creative writing from the University of Central Florida and has a special interest in obscure, lesser-known species.
Blue whales are the largest creature to ever grace this Earth. They can grow to around 100 ft (33 meters), which is more than twice the size of a T-Rex dinosaur! Newborn calves are around the same size as an adult African elephant – about 23 ft (7 meters). To get more of an idea of how huge these animals are, picture this: a blue whale’s heart is the size of a car, and their blood vessels are so wide a person can swim through them!
Despite their large size, blue whales eat tiny organisms. Their favorite food is krill, small shrimp-like creatures. They can eat up to 40 million of these every day. They do so by opening their mouths really wide, and after getting a mouthful, they’ll close their mouths and force out the swallowed water with their tongue, while trapping the krill behind their baleen plates – this method is known as filter feeding.
Blue whales live in every ocean except the Arctic. They usually travel alone or in small groups of up to four, but when there are plenty of krill to go around, more than 60 of these mega-creatures will gather around and feast.
Blue whales can communicate across 1,000 miles (over 1600 km)! Their calls are loud and deep, reaching up to 188 decibels – so loud that it would be too painful for human ears to bear. Scientists believe that these calls produce sonar – helping the whales navigate through dark ocean depths.
Climate Regulator
All that krill has to go somewhere, meaning out the other end. Whale poop helps maintain the health of oceans by fertilizing microscopic plankton. Plankton is the bedrock of all sea life, as it feeds the smallest of critters, and these critters then feed larger creatures (and on goes the food chain). Plankton include algae and cyanobacteria that get their energy through photosynthesis, and they are abundant throughout Earth’s oceans. These microorganisms contribute to carbon storage by promoting the cycling of carbon in the ocean, rather than its emission in the form of carbon dioxide. Without whales, we wouldn’t have as much plankton, and without plankton, the food cycle would collapse, and more gas would rise to the atmosphere. Therefore, whale poop acts as a climate stabilizer.
Learn more about this whale-based nutrient cycle here:
Size doesn’t equal protection
Unfortunately, the sheer size of blue whales isn’t enough to prevent them from harm. Blue whales were heavily hunted until last century, and although a global ban was imposed in 1966, they are still considered endangered.
Today, blue whales must navigate large and cumbersome fishing gear. When they get entangled, the gear attached to them can cause severe injury. Dragging all that gear adds a lot of weight, so this also zaps their energy sources. Since blue whales communicate through calls intended to travel long distances, increased ocean noise either from ships or underwater military tests can also disrupt their natural behaviors.
Another threat blue whales face are vessel strikes. They can swim up to 20 miles an hour, but only for short bursts. Usually, blue whales travel at a steady pace of 5 miles per hour. This means that they aren’t fast enough to dodge incoming vessels, and these collisions can lead to injuries or even death for the whales. In areas where traffic is high, such as ports and shipping lanes, this threat becomes even more prominent.
To protect blue whales, and our oceans, we can implement sustainable fishing practices that use marine mammal-friendly gear. We can also reduce man-made noise, and utilize precautionary measures when venturing out to sea. That way we avoid vessel strikes and have a higher chance of witnessing the largest creature to ever grace our planet.
For creatures big, bigger, and biggest, Tania
Tania graduated from Tufts University with a Master of Science in Animals and Public Policy. Her academic research projects focused on wildlife conservation efforts, and the impacts that human activities have on wild habitats. As a writer and activist, Tania emphasizes the connections between planet, human, and animal health. She is a co-founder of the podcast Closing the Gap, and works on outreach and communications for Sustainable Harvest International. She loves hiking, snorkeling, and advocating for social justice.
Meet the aardvark – a one-of-a-kind mammal native only to sub-Saharan Africa.
The aardvark has an unusual hodge-podge mix of features including rabbit-like ears, a pig-like snout, an opossum-like tail, and a long, sticky anteater-like tongue. This creature has large and formidable claws used for digging and defense. Weighing in at 115 – 180 pounds, the aardvark is much heftier than it looks.
Aardvarks inhabit the savannas, arid grasslands, and bushlands of sub-Saharan Africa where there is plenty of their favorite prey, ants and termites. They are solitary and do not socialize with others unless for mating or raising young. They live for about 18 years in the wild and approximately 25 years in captivity.
The aardvark is famous for being the first noun in the English dictionary. The animal goes by many names including Cape anteater and ant bear, but its colloquial moniker, aardvark, is Afrikaans for “earth pig”.
Although the aardvark is an eater of ants, it is not an anteater. Understandably, the comparison comes from its similar appearance and nearly identical diet to the anteater, which leads people to assume they are the same animal. However, the aardvark is its own species entirely, and in fact, it is more closely related to elephants than to anteaters.
Unique Diet
Aardvarks are insectivores that eat ants and termites. They use their keen sense of smell to locate ant nests and termite mounds over great distances. Aardvarks have the highest number of olfactory turbinate bones of any mammal on the planet. An aardvark has about 9 -11 of these specialized bones which help support the olfactory bulb in the brain, where smells are processed. This larger-than-average olfactory system allows the aardvark to track such tiny creatures like ants and termites from far away. They have been observed swinging their heads back and forth close to the ground, much like a metal detector, to pick up a scent.
Once an aardvark locates a termite mound, it uses its claws to break open the cement-hard structure. Its tongue, coated in sticky saliva, slurps up the exposed insects in seconds. The highly adapted tongue of an aardvark can be up to 1 foot long. Over the course of a night, a single aardvark eats over 45,000 termites. Amazingly, all of this is done without chewing.
While aardvarks are classified as insectivores, they make one exception in their diet for a very unique fruit, the aardvark cucumber. This African melon looks similar to a cantaloupe but is grown completely underground. Aardvarks easily dig up the fruit and eat its watery, seed-filled interior. Once the fruit is digested, the seeds are dispersed by the aardvarks that cover their dung in dirt, effectively planting these seeds in the soil with a natural fertilizer. This symbiotic relationship helps propagate the aardvark cucumber, whose existence is entirely dependent upon the aardvark.
The aardvark is regarded as a symbol of resilience in some African cultures due to its unrelenting bravery in tearing down termite mounds. The aardvark has very thick skin which helps avoid injury from hundreds of termite and ant bites. Because of their nocturnal habits and solitary nature, aardvarks are not a common sight during the day. It is said that anyone who is lucky enough to see one is blessed.
Earth Engineer
Aardvarks are adept earth-movers known to create specialized burrows to live in. These burrows provide shelter away from the sun and from predators. Its powerful claws are specially adapted to move massive amounts of dirt in minutes, which helps the aardvark excavate multiple chambers within the den.
Some burrows can be up to 10 feet deep and over 20 feet long. There are multiple entrances to the same burrow so the aardvark has a chance to escape if a predator poses a threat. Aardvarks have been observed to be very cautious creatures and practice an unusual ritual before exiting their abode. The aardvark stands at the edge of its burrow and uses its excellent sense of smell to detect any nearby predators. It listens for danger and emerges slowly. The aardvark then jumps a few times, pauses, and heads out for the night. Because aardvarks are primarily nocturnal, they don’t have much need for vivid sight and are colorblind. Their long ears and nose do the seeing for them.
The physiology of these soil architects may strike some as strange, but it serves a purpose. The odd, arched silhouette of the aardvark is caused by its hind legs being longer than its front, which gives them a stronger stance when digging. This adaptation, combined with their formidable claws and muscular forelimbs, allows the aardvark to dig a hole 2-feet deep in just 30 seconds – much faster than a human with a shovel.
When aardvarks have depleted most of their territory’s termite mounds or ant nests, they must move on to new hunting grounds. Their abandoned burrows don’t stay empty for long and are occupied by a variety of species. Hyenas, wilddogs, warthogs, civets, and porcupines make their homes in aardvark burrows. The aardvark has an incredible impact on its environment by sculpting the very landscape itself and providing shelter for other creatures.
If you want to learn more about how aardvark burrows support other animals, check out this article documenting the one of the first observations of predators and prey cohabitating in the same burrow.
Burrowing away now, Joely
Joely Hart is a wildlife enthusiast writing to inspire curiosity about Earth’s creatures. She holds a Bachelor’s degree in creative writing from the University of Central Florida and has a special interest in obscure, lesser-known species.
What mammal makes a mysterious sound that scientists can’t figure out, can jump straight up to a height eight times their body length, and loves us when we love them?
Felis catus, the mostly tame, sometimes feral, house cat!
Oly (aka Olyneuropathy) the Tabby Photo by Maya Dutta
Cats domesticated us humans around 7500 BCE, once we began growing grain – and we needed someone to control the annoying mice that ate it. Cats found this to be a pretty good deal and the feeling was mutual. The relationship worked so well that Felis catus became one of the top ten most populous mammals on Earth, with approximately 700 million of them today.
By the way, if you want to sound cool when there’s a group of them around, you may refer to the numerous felines as a clowder or glaring of cats (as in, “Look, everyone – there’s a clowder of cats!”).
A cat eating a fish under a chair, a mural in an Egyptian tomb dating to the 15th century BC (Photo: Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons)
Not all is rosy in mondo catus, sadly. They are so adaptable, brought to all continents except Antarctica (mostly by humans in boats), that cats are among the most invasive of species. They sometimes wind up in places free of natural predators, and their proliferation is fed by eating billions of birds, mammals, and reptiles, even causing an occasional extinction. (Then again, who are we Homo sapiens to pass judgment on other “invasive” species?)
Yet, undeterred by dark sides, people around the world are crazy about their cats. We will go to great lengths to make them happy. See, for example, this Kickstarter Shru Cat Companion crowdfunding campaign: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1046165765/egg-the-intelligent-cat-companion (scroll down, watch the video, and try to contain your excitement).
The cat-toy inventor asked for a $15,000 investment, but cat lovers showed their love by sending Shru $170,779 for an exotic cat toy that does . . . well, I’ll let you figure that one out. In the meanwhile thousands of non-profits run crowdfunders to conduct activities like feeding children and turning deserts green again, among many other urgent things – and their average take is only $9,237. Such oddly-placed power of cat fervor is depressingly impressive (though it’s not the cats’ fault).
Cats have more vertebrae than most mammals, and their intervertebral discs are elastic and springy. So cats can contort into an amazing variety of liquid-esque positions. And even more importantly, those spinal discs alternately expand and compress as the animal runs, which conserves energy and provides extra propulsion for speeds of up to 30 miles per hour (or 48 km/h).
Although cat behavioral and psychological scientists are a few years behind their canine counterparts, it is lately becoming scientifically apparent how intelligent and emotionally responsive cats are (of course, cat owners have known this forever). They just show it differently from dogs or other animals:
Yes! Cats do love their humans, even if sometimes they have a funny way of showing it. In fact, they form strong attachments to their owners and display their emotions very similar to humans.
Just like people, cats can show their love through understanding and concern for others. In some instances, they have been known to risk their lives for their owners, protecting them from dangers like poisonous snakes or other hazards. Cats can also detect when their owner is upset and will often console them or, in some cases, even lick away their tears! Some cases exist where an owner left or passed away, and the cat exhibited signs of distress like sitting and meowing at the owner’s bedroom door, going into hiding, even refusing to eat. But perhaps some of the most incredible evidence that cats do get attached to their owners is in the cases where cats have traveled hundreds upon hundreds of miles to places they’ve never been in order to find their person.
Finally, there’s purring, a sound that science still can’t quite figure out. It turns out that cats purr for all kinds of reasons other than that they’re happy to be on our laps. This video tells the story:
Intriguing cat facts and tales could go on forever, but for now let’s travel onward together on the road to purr-fect purr-ful bliss,
Adam
P.S. If you have access to Netflix, there’s a fascinating video entitled “Inside the Mind of a Cat.” You can train cats to do all kinds of amazing tricks when you know how. Note that they’re training you as much as you’re training them!
Adam Sacks is a Co-Founder and former Executive Director of Biodiversity for a Livable Climate (Bio4Climate). He has had careers in education, holistic medicine, computer technology, politics, and advocacy. A climate activist for the past 25 years, he has been studying and writing about Holistic Management since 2007. His primary goal is the regeneration of biodiversity and a livable planet.
In the vast expanses of the world’s oceans, a symphony of moans, cries, and howls fills the water, echoing across great distances. This stunning serenade is the song of the humpback whale, one of the most majestic creatures to grace the seas.
Scientifically known as Megaptera novaeangliae, the humpback whale derives its common name from the distinctive hump on its back. With dark backs, light bellies, and long pectoral fins that resemble wings, these whales are a sight to behold. Their Latin name, signifying “big wing of New England,” pays homage to those impressive pectoral fins and early encounters European whalers had with these graceful giants off the coast of New England.
Humpback whales are renowned for their enchanting songs, which echo through the ocean depths for great distances. These compositions, which consist of moans, howls, and cries, are among the longest and most complex in the animal kingdom. Scientists speculate that these melodic masterpieces serve as a means of communication and courtship, with male humpbacks serenading potential mates during the breeding season for minutes to hours at a time. Songs have also been observed during coastal migrations and hunts. Many artists have taken inspiration from these songs, and you can even listen to eight-hour mixes of them to help you get to sleep. Check it out:
Another marvel of the humpback are their awe-inspiring displays of acrobatics, from flipper slapping to full-body breaching. Despite their colossal size, these creatures display remarkable agility and grace. With lengths of up to 62.5 feet (19m, or one school bus!) and weights of 40 tons (40,000 kg), humpback whales are true behemoths of the ocean.
Life on the move
Life for a humpback whale is a tale of two halves—a perpetual journey between polar feeding grounds and tropical breeding waters. These remarkable migrations span thousands of miles and rank as one of the longest animal migrations on the planet, and the longest among mammals.
Feasting on plankton, krill, and small schooling fish, humpback whales are skilled hunters, capable of consuming up to 1,360 kilograms of food per day. Employing innovative techniques such as bubble-netting and kick-feeding, they ensnare their prey with precision and efficiency. Generally these whales stay in small and dynamic groups, and they use their social intelligence and coordination to orchestrate these group hunting mechanisms.
Ecological powerhouses
Humpback whales’ feeding and movement contributes to more than just their own wellbeing. As these majestic creatures feed on zooplankton, copepods, and other food sources in the oceans’ depths, and subsequently ascend to the surface, they disrupt the thermocline—a boundary between surface and deep waters—facilitating greater mixing of ocean layers. This enhanced mixing fosters increased nutrient availability, benefiting a myriad of marine organisms.
They also cycle nutrients through their own consumption and excretion, contributing to a phenomenon known as the “biological pump.” These whales ingest biomass and nutrients from microscopic and small macroscopic organisms in deeper waters, digest it, and excrete their own waste in large macroscopic fecal plumes on the ocean’s surface. This cyclical process effectively transports nutrients from the ocean depths back to the surface, replenishing vital elements such as nitrogen for algae and phytoplankton growth. In regions like the Gulf of Maine, the nitrogen influx from whale feces surpasses that of all nearby rivers combined, underscoring the profound impact of these marine giants on nutrient cycling. Finally, when a whale’s life has come to an end, its own massive body sinks to the ocean floor and countless organisms are nourished by it in the decomposition process.
Understanding the multifaceted lives and roles of humpback whales underscores the urgency of their conservation. Historically valued solely for commercial exploitation, these majestic creatures now emerge as essential components of oceanic ecosystems. Though humpback whales have faced centuries of exploitation and habitat degradation, concerted conservation efforts offer hope for their survival, not only safeguarding whales themselves but also preserving the intricate ecological processes that sustain marine life and biodiversity.
Whales continue to face threats from ship collisions, entanglement in fishing gear, noise pollution, and the disruption of habitat for their food sources due to trawling, pollution, and encroachment. But strong advocacy has brought these creatures back from the brink before, and our conservation and restoration work can safeguard the future of these enchanting giants and ensure that their songs continue to echo through the seas for generations to come.
Take a look at Sir David Attenborough’s tale of their resurgence and beauty:
May we steward the ocean with love and care,
Maya
Maya Dutta is an environmental advocate and ecosystem restorer working to spread understanding on the key role of biodiversity in shaping the climate and the water, carbon, nutrient and energy cycles we rely on. She is passionate about climate change adaptation and mitigation and the ways that community-led ecosystem restoration can fight global climate change while improving the livelihood and equity of human communities. Having grown up in New York City and lived in cities all her life, Maya is interested in creating more natural infrastructure, biodiversity, and access to nature and ecological connection in urban areas.
Groundhogs are famous rodents who enjoy the spotlight in early February, when people in the US and Canada celebrate Groundhog Day. These critters also go by woodchuck, whistle-pig, wood-shock, whistler, marmot, thickwood badger, red monk, land beaver, weenusk, monax, and groundpig.
Beyond their supposed (and generally debunked) prowess at predicting seasonal changes, these cuddly creatures exhibit a fascinating blend of behaviors and ecological significance. Groundhogs belong to the squirrel family as one of the 14 species of marmots, which are also aptly known as ground squirrels. Indeed, groundhogs’ fifteen minutes of fame, and their lives outside of it, are shaped by their burrowing talent and how that ties into their seasonal habits.
A defining characteristic of groundhogs is their habit of hibernating through the winter months. They spend the warmer seasons gorging themselves on vegetation, accumulating ample fat reserves to sustain them through the winter slumber. During hibernation, their heart rate drops and their body temperature lowers, enabling them to conserve energy in their underground burrows.
Burrowing is a hallmark behavior of groundhogs, with complex, multi-chambered burrows extending up to a total of 65 feet in length. These subterranean dwellings serve as multi-functional spaces where groundhogs sleep, raise their offspring, and even excrete waste in specific, separate tunnels. Intriguingly, the burrows also provide refuge for other wildlife species, which helps support the overall biodiversity of their habitats. Much like the dens of the related prairie dog, these burrows can shelter other species in times of need, offering a place of refuge during fires or cold snaps, or simply a home base to hide out from the usual predators.
Cultural and Ecological Connections
Groundhog Day, celebrated on February 2nd each year, has captured the imagination of people across the United States and Canada. According to tradition, if a groundhog emerges from its burrow and sees its shadow, there will be six more weeks of winter, and if it doesn’t see its shadow (which happened this year), spring will come early. However, a study conducted in 2021 surveying years of predictions and seasonal records revealed that groundhogs’ predictions seem to be pure chance, with accuracy rates hovering around 50 percent.
Despite their failed reputation as predictors of seasonal changes, groundhogs excel in other aspects of survival. They are skilled foragers, feeding on a variety of vegetation, including leaves, flowers, and field crops. Their burrowing activities also play a crucial role in mixing and aerating the soil, a process which enhances nutrient absorption essential for plant growth.
While groundhogs are classified as species of least concern on the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) Red List, they face challenges in areas where they are overly abundant. Considered pests by some due to their burrowing activities, groundhogs occasionally come into conflict with humans, particularly farmers who may experience damage to gardens and crops.
Groundhogs are integral components of their ecosystems, providing shelter for various wildlife species and contributing to soil health through their burrowing activities. While adults are known to defend themselves fiercely against predators using their powerful claws and teeth, young groundhogs are more vulnerable to predation, particularly from birds of prey like hawks and other raptors.
Check out this short and sweet video from the Missouri Department of Conservation on Groundhogs:
Let us honor Groundhog Day as a reminder to be attentive to the organisms and ecosystems around us. The more we learn from one another, the better we can participate in the complex web of life in which we all play a role.
Burrowing away now,
Maya
Maya Dutta is an environmental advocate and ecosystem restorer working to spread understanding on the key role of biodiversity in shaping the climate and the water, carbon, nutrient and energy cycles we rely on. She is passionate about climate change adaptation and mitigation and the ways that community-led ecosystem restoration can fight global climate change while improving the livelihood and equity of human communities. Having grown up in New York City and lived in cities all her life, Maya is interested in creating more natural infrastructure, biodiversity, and access to nature and ecological connection in urban areas.
What furry feline has stealthy skills, built-in snow gear, and a surprising screech?
The Canada lynx!
Photo by Kevin Pepper
The Canada lynx, also known as Lynx canadensis or the Inuktut name of ᐱᖅᑐᖅᓯᕋᖅ (‘piqtuqsiraq’), is a charismatic mammal of the Northernmost parts of North America. This furry, fierce cousin of the bobcat can be found in Canada, of course, as well as Alaska and in some parts of Northern Maine.
This forest feline may resemble a larger version of a housecat, but its predatory prowess is nothing short of formidable. With a heavy coat of fur, including distinctive tufts at its ears and a short, black-tipped tail, large paws that help navigate snowy terrain, and excellent vision and hearing, the Canada lynx is extremely well adapted to its environment.
Photo by Laura Lorman from National Wildlife Federation
Prime Predator
In terms of physical attributes and behavior, the Canada lynx possesses exceptional senses, including large eyes and acute hearing, making it an adept nocturnal hunter. In fact, they are able to detect prey in the darkness from as far as 250 feet (76 m) away.
Although not known for speed, these stealthy predators rely on their knack for stealth. They often lie in wait, concealed in strategic hiding spots, before making a calculated pounce on unsuspecting prey. Patiently biding their time for hours on end is not uncommon in their pursuit of sustenance.
Exhibiting a very specific carnivorous diet, these lynxes primarily subsist on snowshoe hares, and fluctuations in hare populations directly correlate with the rise and fall of lynx numbers. When it is available, a single lynx might consume an entire hare for a meal, storing remnants for later consumption. In the absence of hares, they resort to hunting small mammals, birds, and occasionally larger prey such as caribou.
Photo from Shuttershock
Suited to the snow
Characterized by a compact body, diminutive tail, and elongated legs, the Canada lynx sports a dense, lengthy, and gray fur coat during winter, while transitioning to a shorter, lighter brown coat in summer. Their facial appearance appears broad due to elongated fur patches extending from their cheeks that can give the appearance of a two-pronged beard. They also sport distinctive black-tipped, bobbed tails and elongated tufts on their triangular ears.
Closely resembling the southern-dwelling bobcat, the key difference lies in their tails— the Canada lynx boasts completely black-tipped tails compared to the bobcat’s tail that features a white ring below the black tip. Moreover, the lynx’s sizable, heavily furred paws act as natural snowshoes, with a high surface area to support their movement over deep snow, aiding their mobility during winter hunts.
Residing across forested regions spanning Canada, Alaska, and certain parts of the contiguous United States, Canada lynxes prefer making dens under fallen trees, tree stumps, rock formations, or dense vegetation. These territorial animals are mostly solitary, particularly with male lynxes leading an almost entirely solitary existence.
Photo from National Geographic
However, young lynxes stay in the care of their mothers for about a year, and some females have been observed living and hunting in pairs, raising questions for scientists about the social behavior of these big cats. Recently, a team of researchers has begun delving into the social lives of lynxes by tracking their vocalizations. And whether or not you are engaged in studying lynx populations, it’s well worth checking out the haunting sounds of the lynx call:
Big Cats of the Boreal
The Canada lynx, a native denizen of the expansive Boreal Forest, relies heavily on this vast and biodiverse habitat for survival. The boreal ecosystem, characterized by its dense forests of coniferous trees, provides the ideal cover and sustenance for these elusive predators. The lynx thrives amidst the rich tapestry of dense vegetation, fallen trees, and rocky outcrops, creating a mosaic of hiding spots and denning sites crucial for their survival. However, threats to the Boreal Forest, including deforestation, habitat fragmentation, and climate change, pose significant risks to the Canada lynx population.
Deforestation for logging, mining, and human settlement disrupts the lynx’s habitat, diminishing their hunting grounds and safe havens. Fragmentation of the forest reduces connectivity between lynx populations, affecting genetic diversity and hindering their ability to roam and find suitable mates. Climate change exacerbates these issues, altering the boreal ecosystem and impacting prey availability, which is pivotal for the lynx’s sustenance. The cumulative effect of these threats imperils the Canada lynx, highlighting the urgent need for conservation efforts to safeguard both the lynx and its vital habitat in the Boreal Forest, which in turn plays an essential role regulating the carbon and water cycles and overall stability of our climate.
The Canada lynx is more than just an example of might and physical prowess in nature. A true embodiment of the northern forests, these elusive creatures and their unique lifestyle are treasures of the wild. Let us work for ecological integrity in all forests and ecosystems, Boreal and beyond.
For my fellow cat lovers,
Maya
Maya Dutta is an environmental advocate and ecosystem restorer working to spread understanding on the key role of biodiversity in shaping the climate and the water, carbon, nutrient and energy cycles we rely on. She is passionate about climate change adaptation and mitigation and the ways that community-led ecosystem restoration can fight global climate change while improving the livelihood and equity of human communities. Having grown up in New York City and lived in cities all her life, Maya is interested in creating more natural infrastructure, biodiversity, and access to nature and ecological connection in urban areas.
Venturing into the world of fishing cats unveils a marvel of feline prowess and adaptability. These incredible creatures, found across 11 countries in Southeast Asia, possess a unique combination of features that defy conventional feline stereotypes.
Their distinct traits include a squat, stocky build, equipped with short, webbed feet, and an olive-gray coat adorned with black spots and stripes. Contrary to the belief that cats avoid water at all costs, fishing cats exhibit an unparalleled affinity for aquatic habitats. Indeed, these exceptional swimmers and adept hunters inhabit wetlands, marshes, and mangrove forests.
One of the most striking features aiding the waterborne adventures of the fishing cat is the webbing between their toes, facilitating seamless navigation through muddy wetlands without sinking. Additionally, their fur boasts a dual-layered composition: a short, dense undercoat shields their skin from the elements while swimming, while longer guard hairs contribute to their distinctive coloration, providing ideal camouflage for hunting in varied terrains.
Hunting primarily near water bodies, fishing cats display remarkable adaptability in their diet, feasting not only on fish but also on crustaceans, amphibians, and various aquatic creatures. These agile predators employ ingenious techniques, using their paws to scoop fish from shallow waters or even diving headfirst into deeper areas to secure a meal with their teeth. Their versatile diets extend to snakes, rodents, and even larger prey like young deer and wild pigs, but fish comprise about three quarters of their food.
Watch a juvenile try to learn the process:
Fishing cats navigate diverse ecosystems with ease, forging their existence in habitats ranging from freshwater landscapes to coastal regions. While much of their behavior in the wild has eluded observation, fishing cats, which are nocturnal animals, are thought to have no natural predators besides humans. They tend to roam wetlands and areas that larger cats and predators aren’t well suited to inhabit. However, humans provide plenty of issues to contend with, and due to the pressures of habitat encroachment, development, and poaching, fishing cats are classified as a vulnerable species.
Smithsonian’s National Zoo, Jessie Cohen
Human and Habitat Pressures
In India, conservationists and researchers have embarked on a pivotal journey to safeguard these elusive creatures. The country’s many wetland ecosystems, integral to the fishing cat’s survival, face mounting threats from human encroachment, urbanization, and environmental degradation. Increasing development comes with issues of draining wetlands, polluting them, or altering their composition and natural salinity of the soil due to aquaculture operations.
Many organizations, like the Wildlife Institute of India and the Eastern Ghats Wildlife Society, have sprung up to champion the cause of fishing cats and understand more about these creatures. Studies conducted in sanctuaries and wildlife reserves have shed light on the behavior, habitat preferences, and dietary patterns of fishing cats in captivity. Initiatives to map their territories and understand their population dynamics have proven more challenging, yet vital for conservation strategies. Camera trap surveys in regions like the Coringa Wildlife Sanctuary and the Krishna Wildlife Sanctuary have uncovered pockets of fishing cat populations, offering valuable insights into their distribution across diverse landscapes.
Juvenile Fishing Cat on a Branch (Photo by Michael Bentley from Wikipedia, CC 2.0)
The evolving understanding of fishing cats has inspired conservation campaigns aimed at raising awareness among local communities. Educational programs, including the “Children for Fishing Cats” initiative, have empowered younger generations to become advocates for wildlife conservation, fostering harmony between human activities and the preservation of vital ecosystems.
Amidst the growing threats posed by habitat loss, human-wildlife conflicts, and climate change, conservationists advocate for stronger legislation and reinforced protection measures for wetlands and associated habitats. Efforts to mitigate conflict situations, prevent retaliatory killings, and promote sustainable practices among fishing communities stand as cornerstones in safeguarding these resilient creatures and their fragile environments.
As researchers navigate the delicate balance between human activities and wildlife conservation, the overarching goal remains clear: preserving the wetlands that sustain the extraordinary fishing cats is indispensable for safeguarding biodiversity, ensuring ecological resilience, and fostering coexistence between humans and these remarkable felines. More people and organizations are also coming to appreciate the benefits of healthy wetland ecosystems for buffering against storm surges, protecting water quality, contributing to the water cycle, and helping fight climate change.
As we protect and restore our wetlands, we can safeguard the future for fishing cats, the ecosystems they regulate, and the web of life that connects us.
For my fellow water lovers everywhere,
Maya
Maya Dutta is an environmental advocate and ecosystem restorer working to spread understanding on the key role of biodiversity in shaping the climate and the water, carbon, nutrient and energy cycles we rely on. She is passionate about climate change adaptation and mitigation and the ways that community-led ecosystem restoration can fight global climate change while improving the livelihood and equity of human communities. Having grown up in New York City and lived in cities all her life, Maya is interested in creating more natural infrastructure, biodiversity, and access to nature and ecological connection in urban areas.
Sometimes, when walking alone in the high grasslands of the Western United States, you may feel as if you are being watched.
My first encounter with prairie dogs in the wild occurred as I stood in an empty prairie just outside of Badlands National Park in South Dakota. As I meandered along, minding my own business, dozens of furry creatures with beady little eyes appeared, propped themselves up on their hind legs, and began to follow my every step. Prairie dogs are adorable, it is true, but when you see a dozen spread out, standing upright, watching you intently, it can be a bit disconcerting.
They were, however, no threat, and weren’t eyeballing me just to judge me. A prairie dog standing on his hind legs – “periscoping” as it is known – is simply keeping watch for predators. And their distinctive bark? It may sound like “yip,” but it is actually a sophisticated language developed over thousands of years that is still not fully understood by scientists.
Prairie dog barks convey everything about a predator’s size, speed, and location. According to a study at the University of Northern Arizona led by Con Slobodchikoff, Ph.D (see video linked below) pitch, speed, and timbre were all altered in a consistent manner corresponding to the species of predator and the characteristics of each. Certain “yips” could even be interpreted to represent nouns (the threat is “human”), verbs (the “human” is moving toward us), and adjectives (the “human” is wearing an ugly yellow shirt). So now that I think about it, I guess they were judging me, and I am not sure how I feel about that. But still, those are some impressive squirrels.
Wait, did you say squirrels?
Yes.
Squirrels. From the Sciuridae family. Prairie dogs are marmots (or ground squirrels) that bark like a dog, prompting Lewis and Clark to label them “barking squirrels,” which may lack points for creativity but is at least more accurate than calling them “dogs.” Prairie dogs, in fact, have no connection to dogs whatsoever.
There are five major species of prairie dog, who all live in North America at elevations between 2,000 and 10,000 feet. The Black-Tailed prairie dog covers the largest territory, filling an extensive region from Montana to Texas. Gunnison’s prairie dogs occupy the southwest near the Four Corners region. White-Tailed prairie dogs reside in Wyoming, Utah, and Colorado. Mexican and Utah prairie dogs belong to Mexico and Utah, respectively, and both are considered endangered.
As you may have observed, prairie dogs live in areas prone to harsh extremes of weather. To protect themselves, they dig extensive burrow networks with multiple entrances, designed to create ventilation, route flood water into empty chambers deep underground, and keep watch for predators. Their burrows connect underground, organized into sections called “coteries,” each of which contains a single-family unit responsible for the maintenance and protection of their area. Multiple coteries become “towns” of startling size and complexity. According to the National Park Service, the largest prairie dog town on record covered 25,000 square miles, bigger than the state of West Virginia!
Over the years, however, the prairie dog’s range has shrunk, scientists estimate, by as much as 99%, largely because of agriculture. Farmers and ranchers tend to regard prairie dogs as a nuisance, as they sometimes eat crops (they are mostly herbivores) and their holes create a hazard for livestock. They will bulldoze their towns or conduct contest kills to remove them, which has had devastating impacts.
Experts consider prairie dogs to be a keystone species. Their loss affects hundreds of other species who rely on them for food or use their burrows for shelter. They are instrumental in recharging groundwater, regulating soil erosion, and maintaining the soil’s level of production. Prairie dog decline, in fact, eventually leads to desertification of grassland environments.
So, an impressive AND important squirrel?
Yes, and the restoration of prairie dog habitats could be a crucial step in mitigating the effects of climate change.
If you’ve caught prairie dog fever, dive deeper into the resources below. And to learn more about Prairie Dog language, check out this fascinating video:
Hoping one day to converse with my personal prairie dog army,
Mike
Mike Conway is a part-time freelance writer who lives with his wife, kids, and dog Smudge (pictured) in Northern Virginia.
Which creature is the largest Asian antelope, considered sacred to some and pest to others?
The Nilgai!
Photo by Hemant Goyal from Pexels
This fascinating four-legged friend could be described by a whole host of leading questions, depending on which notable features we want to emphasize. Elizabeth Cary Mungall’s Exotic Animal Field Guide introduced the nilgai with the question “What animal looks like the combination of a horse and a cow with the beard of a turkey and short devil’s horns?”
Personally, I find the nilgai much cuter than that combination might suggest, but it may all be in the eye of the beholder. The name ‘nilgai’ translates to ‘blue cow’, but the nilgai is really most closely related to other antelopes within the bovine family Bovidae. Mature males do indeed have a blue tint to their coat, while calves and mature females remain tawny brown in color.
Photo by Clicker Babu from Unsplash
As their physiology suggests, nilgai are browsers that roam in small herds, with a strong running and climbing ability. I encountered them in the biodiversity parks of New Delhi and Gurgaon, where efforts to rewild the landscape to its original dry deciduous forest make for ideal stomping grounds for the nilgai.
Prolific Browsers
Indigenous to the Indian subcontinent, the nilgai is at home in savanna and thin woodland, and tends to avoid dense forest. Instead, they roam through open woods, where they have room to browse, feeding on grasses and trees alike. They’re considered mixed feeders for that reason, and will adjust their diet according to the landscape. Nilgai are adept eaters, standing on their hind legs to reach trees’ fruits and flowers and relying on their impressive stature (which ranges from 3 to 5 feet, or 1 to 1.5 m, at the shoulder) to get what they need.
Photo from Wikipedia (By Akkida, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=34508948)
Like other large herbivores, nilgai play an important role in nutrient cycling and maintaining the ecosystems they’re a part of. In this case, that looks like feeding on shrubs and trees to keep woodlands relatively open, as well as dispersing seeds through their dung. One 1994 study noted the ecological value of the nilgai in ravines lining the Yamuna River, where the nitrogen contained in their fecal matter can make a large difference in soil quality, particularly in hot summer months.
These creatures actually defecate strategically, creating dung piles that are thought to mark territory between dominant males. As a clever evasion tactic, these are often created at crossroads in paths through forest or savanna-scape, so that predators may not be able to trace the nilgai’s next steps so easily.
Photo from Wikipedia (By Bernard Gagnon – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=30634949)
Food webs for changing times
The natural predators of the nilgai once included the Bengal tiger and Asiatic lion, as well as leopards, Indian wolves, striped hyena, and dholes (or Indian wild dogs) which sometimes prey on juveniles. However, as deforestation, habitat loss and fragmentation, and development pressures change the face of the subcontinent, the ecological role of the nilgai has become more complicated. While their association with cows, a sacred animal in Hinduism, has widely prevented nilgai from being killed by humans, the relationship between people and nilgai is becoming more contentious.
Where nilgai lack their traditional habitat to browse, they turn to plundering agricultural fields, frustrating the farmers who work so hard to cultivate these crops. Farmers in many Indian states thus consider them pests, and the state of Bihar has now classified them as ‘vermin’ and allowed them to be culled.
Photo from Wikipedia (By Jon Connell – https://www.flickr.com/photos/ciamabue/4570527773/in/photostream/, CC BY 2.0)
There’s no place like… Texas?
Strangely enough, when I got inspired by my nilgai sightings in India and decided to learn more about these Asian antelopes, one of the first search results I encountered involved nilgai populations here in the US. Specifically in Texas, an introduction of nilgai in the 1920 and 30s has spawned a population of feral roamers. Accounts say that nilgai were originally brought to the North King Ranch both for conservation and for exotic game hunting, somewhat distinct priorities that regardless led to the same result, a Texas population that now booms at over 30,000 individuals.
In this locale, nilgai largely graze grasses and crops, as well as scrub and oak forests. Here hunters have no qualms about killing them, but some animal rights groups object, and popular opinion remains divided on whether such treatment is cruelty or, well, fair game.
These days, one concern is that a large nilgai population contributes to the spread of the cattle fever tick. Another concern remains about these grazers acting as ‘pests’ on agricultural land.
Fundamentally there is a question that lies at the heart of the nilgai’s fate, both at home in India and Bangladesh, where natural predators and original habitat have steeply declined, and abroad, where they weren’t a part of the original ecosystem at all: what do you do when an animal’s ecological role is out of balance?
In my view, there are no easy answers, but a familiar pattern we seem to uncover – that healthy ecosystems, where intact, harbor more complexity than we can recreate or give them credit for. Little by little, I hope we can support their conservation and resurgence.
By Maya Dutta
Maya Dutta is an environmental advocate and ecosystem restorer working to spread understanding on the key role of biodiversity in shaping the climate and the water, carbon, nutrient and energy cycles we rely on. She is passionate about climate change adaptation and mitigation and the ways that community-led ecosystem restoration can fight global climate change while improving the livelihood and equity of human communities. She is the Assistant Director of Regenerative Projects at Bio4Climate.
At Bio4Climate, we LOVE beavers. We’re borderline obsessed with them (or maybe not so borderline) because they do SO much for Earth’s ecosystems, natural cycles, and biodiversity. These furry, water-loving creatures are finally beginning to receive the recognition they deserve in mainstream media now that more people see how their existence and behaviors lead to numerous benefits for everyone’s climate resilience.
We are one of the many organizations advocating for their reintroduction across North America and some places in Europe. For this reason, when I spotted one on a hike during my time in Tennessee, I did what any Bio4Climate team member would do: jump in excitement, yell out “Oh my gosh it’s a BEAVER!” and take a picture that I’ll treasure forever.
Photo by Tania Roa
The rockin’ rodent
Beavers live in family groups of up to eight members. Offspring stay with their parents for up to two years, meanwhile helping with newborns, food gathering, and dam building. To create dams, beavers use their large teeth to cut down trees and lug over branches, rocks, and mud until they successfully slow down the flow of water. These dams include lodges that beavers use as bedrooms and to escape from predators. Dams are designed according to the water’s speed: in steady water, the dam is built straight across, and in rushing water the dam is built with a curve. These engineers build their dams in a way that makes them nearly indestructible against storms, fires, and floods.
Look at those bright orange teeth! The color is thanks to an iron-rich protective coating. Beaver teeth grow continuously, and require gnawing on trees for trimming.
Beaver dams are what make these rodents, the largest ones in North America, so special. When dams alter the flow of water, they create ponds that stretch out a river into a wide wetland. These ponds filter pollutants and store nutrients that then attract a variety of wildlife including fish seeking nurseries, amphibians looking for shelter, and mammals and birds searching for food and water sources.
The abundance of wildlife and the storage of necessary nutrients in beaver ponds classifies these places as biodiversity hotspots, meaning they are “biogeographic regions with significant levels of biodiversity that are threatened by human habitation” (Wikipedia). Beaver ponds also store sediment, and this helps recharge groundwater. Due to the sheer wetness of these ponds, and how deep the water filters into the soil, fires are often extinguished as soon as they reach a beaver pond. In this way, beavers are nature’s firefighters, of which we need many more in areas where extreme heat is increasing.
“There’s a beaver for that” — Ben Goldfarb
Wetland Creation
Biodiversity Support
Water Filtration
Erosion Control
Wildlife Habitat
Flood Management
Drought Resilience
Forest Fire Prevention
Carbon Sequestration
They’re Cool (pun intended)
Beavers are considered ‘ecosystem engineers’ because they actively shift the landscape by fluctuating the flow of water and the placement of plants and trees. Muskrats, minks, and river otters also find refuge in beaver lodges. When beavers take down trees, they create pockets of refuge for insects. Using their constructive talents, beavers significantly modify the region and, in turn, create much-needed habitat for many. Numerous creatures rely on beaver dams for survival, and the local ecosystem dramatically changes when a beaver family is exterminated; for these reasons, we also consider them ‘keystone species.’
Disliked dam builders
Despite the positive impact beavers have on biodiversity and ecosystems, we humans have viewed them as fur, pests, and perfume. By 1900, beavers went nearly extinct across Europe and North America. We hunted them for their fur in response to fashion trends, and trapped them for their anal musk glands, or castors, which produce castoreum, a secretion that beavers use to mark their homes and that humans use to make perfume. When beaver populations plummeted, so did the number of dams and ponds, meaning vast swaths of land were drastically altered during this time – and not for the better. To this day, we kill beavers when they wander into military bases or near urban areas since we see their dam-building behaviors as potentially damaging to man-made properties.
Thankfully, as more ‘Beaver Believers’ speak out against these practices and more authorities recognize the importance of beaver benefits, these rodents are beginning to return to their original homes. California recently passed a program specifically for beaver reintroduction efforts across the state. Washington, Utah, and Massachusetts are other states witnessing the return of beavers. People like Skip Lisle of Beaver Deceivers are designing culverts that prevent beaver dams from damaging infrastructure, but allow the beavers to create their biodiverse-filled ponds. These are just a few examples of the ways we can coexist with beavers, and in turn heal our communities.
There are places in North America where water sources are decreasing for all living things, and in other regions the amount of rainfall is increasing while the amount of snow is decreasing. These weather conditions are detrimental to all of our health, unless we welcome back beavers.
As the effects of climate change and biodiversity loss increase, storing water, preventing runoff and erosion, and protecting biodiverse hotspots become more important by the hour. By restoring local water cycles, beaver ponds provide a source of life. By spreading water channels and creating new ones, beaver dams prevent flooding and stave off wildfires. By encouraging the cycling and storage of nutrients, beaver ponds nurture soil health and that leads to carbon sequestration. We all have something to gain from beavers as long as we allow them to do what they do best: build those dams.
To learn more about beavers, watch the video below and the two in the ‘Sources’ section. We also highly recommend Ben Goldfarb’s Eager: The Surprising Secret Life of Beavers and Why They Matter for further reading.
"European hamster at a city park" by Ivan Radic is licensed under CC BY 2.0.
Which keystone species creates intricate burrows, is aggressive towards its own kind, and hibernates from October to May?
The European Hamster!
European hamster at a city park (Photo by Ivan Radic licensed under CC BY 2.0)
Did you know that there are multiple species of hamster in the wild? I didn’t know this until recently, when I stumbled upon a BBC Earth video of a European Hamster foraging for food in a graveyard. Having only ever been exposed to domesticated hamsters, I was fascinated by this creature and eager to learn more about it.
Burrow into the Basics
The scientific name for the European Hamster is Cricetus cricetus. These furry creatures have a small, ovalish body covered in reddish-brown fur, with the exception of white fur on their face and the side of their body. Quite small in size, European Hamsters typically weigh about 12 – 15 ounces and are about 8-9 inches in length (just a bit bigger than the average human hand!).
In terms of geography, this solitary species is native to Central and Eastern Europe, hence its name. They inhabit steppe and grassland regions that are lush with greenery on relatively flat land.
A Life Well-Lived
The European Hamster has a unique mating process. During the mating season between March and May, females engage in a ritual in which they run in a figure-8 pattern to attract their mate. Males, in turn, will chase the females during this ritual while making a special mating call.
After successful mating with several males, a female’s pregnancy will last about 18 – 21 days and results in about 3 – 7 hamster pups. Females are the primary caregivers to their pups, as males are relatively hands-off in the upbringing of their young. They typically nurse the pups for about a month, or 30 days. The European Hamster has an impressive lifespan among small rodents – it can live up to 8 whole years!
Settling in for Winter
Hibernation is an important part of the European Hamster’s key to a long life. They typically rest from mid-October to mid-March in a deep (2 meter) underground burrow. During hibernation, they wake up about every week or so to get a quick snack before falling back into rest.
Their burrows play a vital role in the European Hamster’s daily life. These burrows exist deep in the ground and have a variety of chambers for specific uses, like food storage.
European Hamster burrow (Photo by Bas Kers (NL) is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
With a healthy appetite, the European hamster loves to eat grasses, seeds, grains, roots, fruits, legumes, and occasionally some insects or insect larvae. They might often be seen spending the day packing their roomy cheeks full of food to bring back to their food storage chamber to prepare for hibernation.
A Temperamental Creature
European Hamsters aren’t the most friendly of creatures, possibly least of all towards their own kind. They mark their territory with secretions, and when they come into contact with another member of their species, they may act aggressively. They have also been known to attack humans when approached by farmers, who may view the species as harmful to their agricultural operations.
European Hamsters deserve particular recognition for their role as a keystone species. They play a crucial role in dispersing seeds throughout the European grassland and steppe ecosystems that they inhabit. They also contribute to the food web by primarily consuming producers (i.e., plants & plant products), and by serving as prey to a host of predators including birds, foxes, weasels, dogs, cats, badgers, and more.
One Keystone Species Affects the Entire Ecosystem
Unfortunately, this important keystone species is currently critically endangered due to a number of factors. According to Animal Diversity Web, “European hamsters have been hunted or sold for their pelts. They also have been used for cancer research, due to their exposure to pesticides and air pollution in urban settings.”
Luckily, there are rehabilitation and reintroduction efforts underway to protect this valuable keystone species and the ecosystem it helps to support. You can learn more about one such project in Khotyn National Park, Ukraine by clicking here:
For all keystone species, Abby
Abby Abrahamson is a writer, activist, and educator with a passion for community-led biodiversity and climate solutions. As a graduate of sociology and environmental studies, she appreciates the intersectionality of our challenges of climate justice, conservation, and regeneration. Now a Teacher Naturalist with Mass Audubon, Abby formerly worked with Bio4Climate on communications, college outreach, and community engagement. She has also been involved in Jane Goodall’s Roots and Shoots, an organization that helps empower young people to work on environmental, conservation, and humanitarian issues.
The Banded Mongoose is a small mammal with a mass of approximately ≤2kg (or 4 lbs) found in (and indigenous to) various parts of Africa. While most other mongoose species live a solitary life, the banded mongoose is gregarious living in groups of approximately 5-40 individuals with at least one breeding male and female. They are named so due to the black stripes across their greyish-brown dorsal area (back) while their ventral area (chest and stomach) is lighter than other parts. This species is commonly known for its ability and behavior to attack, kill, and eat snakes – even venomous ones!
Banded mongooses are mostly found occupying covered areas like savannahs, open forests, and grasslands for vigilance. They sleep and nurture their young in dens such as abandoned termite mounds, buildings, and even under bridges. By possessing short muscular limbs with strong claws, banded mongooses can dig to find food and get creative at creating and modifying their dens. Because they live in large groups as compared with other mongooses, their burrows have many entrances to ensure their escape during an attack and for sufficient ventilation. Despite having such nice dens, they are not sedentary to the specific den but rather frequently move from place to place every few days to avoid and distract their enemies. However, they can return to their favorite den after a certain time. In addition, their body color allows them to blend with several habitats and hence ensures their safety.
Like other animals, banded mongoose adults, especially males, are responsible for the safety of the whole group. Unlike many other animals, all adult members are fully responsible for raising their young who are born synchronously (all matured female members get pregnant and give birth at the same time). Having muscular limbs, banded mongooses can stand by using their hind limbs just like their cousins (meerkats) to ensure the area is safe.
These animals also exhibit altruistic behaviours whereby adults are ready to give up their life for the safety of the group. They were recorded standing and fighting against lions, birds of prey, and other animals, and while doing so other group members evacuated from the area. Additionally, since they are small in size, they move in groups and close to each other so that they may be seen as one large animal. And as they move, the young ones are located in the middle and the adult ones around them.
Diet and behavioral adaptation
The banded mongoose is a meso-carnivore with a diet consisting primarily of invertebrates such as beetles, millipedes, scorpions and others. Nevertheless, they also eat vertebrates such as snakes, rats, amphibians, mice, young birds and eggs. And in the case of plants, they eat wild fruits (if they’re available). Normally, they move together while locating the food area but each member finds and eats its food. In urban areas, they are mostly found around damp areas during their mealtime because there is plenty of food there, and then they rest in the covered areas mostly at noon to avoid the day heat.
On other hand, banded mongooses cope with food problems by using different symbiotic relationships with other animals like birds, warthogs (watch the video below to see this in action), elephants, and others (see more from attached YouTube links in the References). In this way, they become more successful in foraging and thriving in nature. They also use other animals, especially birds, to be alerted of various threats around them.
Though they are social animals, banded mongooses also exhibit inter-group territorial behaviour and their territories are marked with various scents, especially urine. Not only are territories scent-marked but so are group members. This is well seen when new pups are taken out for their first foraging and adults urinate over the young ones. When two different groups meet, they normally fight and the winning group takes over the area that they fought for. However, during the fight, some mature males and females from each group may mate.
Communication
Banded mongooses mainly communicate through sounds and scents. They possess various sound pitches, each with a different meaning and message to other members. They also developed anal and cheek glands which assist in the marking of their territory and young. They have a well-developed sense of smell, which they use to detect food.
Threats
Currently, banded mongooses are not faced with any critical danger and are listed as a“Least Concern” species due to their large population number and distribution in most parts of Africa. But this does not mean they don’t need any concern at all. I found some of them died in road accidents, and for those in urban areas most people used to attack them. Remember, even extinct species were once “Least Concern” and where are they now? Therefore, let’s give attention to every species in the world before their situation becomes worse.
Lesson to humanity
From such a small animal, we may think that there is nothing to gain, but there is a lot to learn from it. Banded mongooses, as said before, are ready to sacrifice their safety and even life just to make sure their groups are safe. This act shows love for others, something which nowadays very few people can do to others regardless of whether the one in need is their relative or not. I also like the way they raise their family. All group members are fully responsible for that, and if people were to do the same, there would be no street children and other problems also could be solved.
This lesson shows how we can learn from banded mongooses, but it is not just this species that we can learn things from. The whole of nature provides us with enough knowledge, materials and services that are essential for our survival. Therefore, let’s love nature and put our individual or organizational efforts into conserving it to ensure its natural existence lasts and more generations to come will continue to gain what we are gaining now.
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