A Little Piece of Swampy Heaven

To celebrate Andrew's and I's Wetlands Week, I'm going to gush on reason #532381 that I love the Saint Louis Zoo: the Cypress Swamp (or, Erin's Thinkin' Place).

The 1904 World's Fair Flight Cage is the one of only two standing structures left from the Louisiana Purchase Exposition (yes, it's true! The World's Fair Pavilion in Forest Park wasn't built until 1910. The Art Museum is actually the other building). The people of St. Louis loved the aviary so much that it was purchased from the Smithsonian and handed over to the Saint Louis Zoological Society (which was, and still is, municipal supported) and became one of the cornerstones of the Zoo as it is today.

Saint Louis Zoo

In 2004, the walk through aviary received a major facelift and became the Cypress Swamp. Missouri and Southern Illinois are part of the Mississippi delta and boast some of the most beautiful wetlands in the United States; the Cypress Swamp is a beautiful ambassador to the majesty of these rapidly declining wetlands.

The thing is, before people realized wetlands were really great at keeping upland places dry and biodiverse, they were basically seen as mosquito factories with no applicable value (a detrimental thought process that proved to be a huge mistake on Florida's part, which I'll write about later this week!). However, because wetlands are great places for nutrients to gather as groundwater gets recycled, when drained the land becomes excellent farmland with nutrient-rich soil. As agrarian as the Midwest (and North America in general) is, one can see how it is that wetlands themselves are on the verge of extinction. 

Today we know so much more about the necessity, both inherent and applicable, of watersheds and wetlands and yet the public perception surrounding the importance of these places still has a long way to go. The Cypress Swamp is an excellent retreat as well as an essential educational tool.

Boasting a variety of  native Facultative (can do equally well with or without water innundation), Obligate (must be inundated at least part of the year), and Upland (don't do so hot being submerged) plants, the Cypress Swamp greets you as an oasis of green. Upon entering, the sights, sounds, and smells of a Cypress Wetland surround zoo visitors while various North American native birds go about their business in the aviary.

Egrets, Ibis, Green Herons, Night Herons, Canvasback, Ruddy, and Wood ducks are just some of the birds encountered swimming in the water, walking on the boardwalk, or watching from the trees. One of my favorite species of bird, the Double Crested Cormorant, even has a few locals taking up residence. It's amazing how many people living in Missouri and Southern Illinois had no idea that these interesting birds lived in the area - often I hear "are they from Africa?" or they assume these came from China, where other species of cormorants call home. The three cormies in the Swamp have especially big personalities and are found most often sitting near (or on!) the boardwalk as if they themselves are just passing through on a leisurely visit. 

By far, the most colorful birds in the Cypress Swamp are the Roseate Spoonbills. Although only found once in a blue moon in the Midwest, these pink birds are very common in southern wetlands. I remember being excited at seeing one in the wild when I moved to Tampa for college - previously, I had only seen them at the Zoo! The Spoonbills are probably one of the best named birds (can you see why?). They use their spoon-like bills to scoop up aquatic insects, crustaceans, and small fish from shallow water and gain their pink plumage the same way flamingos do - caratenoids from their diet. Currently, there is a pair nesting in the Swamp. The morning is my favorite time to be in the Swamp - the birds are active, the shade is plentiful, and the air is cool. It's a very peaceful time and maybe one of the most serene experiences found at the Zoo. 

Of course, 16 or so species of birds and various species of plants an ecosystem does not make. To compensate for the lack of biodiversity within the Cypress Swamp, there are interactive exhibits and signage that weaves a tale of how wetlands provide homes for a variety of different kinds of life. Pressing a hand to a sign, one can hear the call of a Bald Eagle, or feel the heat generated by a patch of Skunk Cabbage, find a Swamp Rabbit, or watch an Alligator Snapping Turtle blow bubbles in the water (not adequately represented: the fact that they facilitate oxygen through their cloaca, i.e, breathe out their butt). The Cypress Swamp wouldn't live up to its name if it didn't represent the pneumataphores (knees) of cypress trees sticking up out of the water (these knees help plants, like cypress and mangroves, to take in oxygen despite being rooted underwater). There's a soft groundspace to stand on, where one can feel what a wetland's soil is like standing on top of. It's kind of bouncy because the soil is so inundated. And the smell! The smell of wet, decaying plant matter, although offensive to some, is earthy and refreshing to me. 

People think I'm crazy that a swamp - one of those icky, nasty, bug filled stink factories - is one of my favorite places to be, but really I'm just simulating the experience of the grandeur of a real swamp until the time comes when I have the time and income to explore the wild wetlands of the world myself. I love educating people about the importance of wetlands* and I urge, for my sake, for your sake, for the sake of these beautiful, mysterious, and oh-so important ecosystems, that you go out and explore a swamp as soon as possible. Take pictures. Wade in the muck. Look for birds, and mammals, and dragonflies, and try to figure out which plants need to live in water and which ones don't. Explore. And if you can't do that, you're always welcome to visit me at the Zoo. You know where to find me. 

* There is another part of the Zoo, on River's Edge, that is supposed to be a Missouri Ozark cabin. It talks about the importance of wetlands and how flooding can be alleviated by wetlands (which act as a natural sponge for rainwater and flooding), but rarely is used to its full potential. It's on my to-do list.

The Hike at Hetch Hetchy

Hetch Hetchy was the last battle of John Muir's career, and was one of his few failures. In the end the powers that be in Washington and San Francisco were just too strong, and the dam went forward. Thus a valley Muir considered the equal of Yosemite itself became a reservoir.

The loss of Hetch Hetchy was not in vain. It helped spur the movement to create the National Park Service, and became a rallying cry for the environmental and conservation movements. Rivers such as the Yampa and Colorado have been protected and their beauty preserved for future generations because people did not want another Hetch Hetchy on their hands. Above all, it is s reminder that just as we can protect the unprotected, we also must be vigilant in preserving what we have already protected.

Despite the controversy, Hetch Hetchy Reservoir and its surrounding area is a beautiful place to take a walk. Located in a remote area far from the crowded Yosemite Valley, you can be assured you'll have plenty of solitude on the trails. During our 2+ mile walk, we only met a handful of people. As such, you can get lost in your thoughts.

Most of the park surrounding the dam is a designated wilderness area, and except for our walk across the dam and through the tunnel next to it was the site of our hike. We didn't go too far, turning around at a panoramic boulder strewn view of the mountains and reservoir. In the process we saw a few waterfalls, at least one of which likely would disappear as the dry summer crept along. It wasn't a taxing hike, with only a couple inclines that only flummoxed me because of my general decrepit fitness. Even considering this, it took a lot for me to be sensible and not continue on into the still snowy heights of the Sierra beyond.

While standing at the turnaround vista, the view of Hetch Hetchy made me think about the state of the American environmental movement. We have come far in restoring our natural heritage, and have many victories to celebrate. In fact, we've succeeded in solving so many of our problems that the problems facing us now seem so insurmountable because they are the most complicated and difficult ones. We've established the value of natural areas, and that it is our responsibility to protect them. The challenge facing us today is one of balance. As we move towards sustainable environmental practices, we have to balance the movement forward with the fact that some areas and industries in our country may have to adapt, or go away entirely.

Without a doubt these are very tricky questions. What to get rid of coal? Then what do we do about the communities in Appalachia, the Midwest, or the West that depend almost entirely upon that industry? Want to reestablish healthy ecosystems on Bureau of Land Management lands out West? How do you get ranchers and their hands on your side, instead of doing everything in their power to keep their cattle grazing on federal lands? Want to build a non-partisan conservation movement built around consensus? Does this mean that protected land should be open to ATVs, hunting, or even certain forms of natural resource extraction?

Environmentalism and protection of our nation's natural treasures shouldn't be an issue for one political party. Throughout our nation's history there have been strong proponents for conservation and preservation across the political spectrum. Sure, we may disagree about the role of government in these efforts, or how fast we act, but liberals, conservatives, and everyone in between should be able to find common ground.

These questions were the topic of discussion for my sister and I as we descended back towards the dam. It was here that I resolved to make it a mission of my life to work on solving at least some of these problems. Maybe we won't get there soon, or even in my lifetime. But the very idea that we can leave this country and this planet in a better place than where we found it is reason enough to work at it. I believe we can live in a country that is environmentally conscious AND economically prosperous. We just have to work hard, think creatively, and keep an open mind.

Our natural areas are a crucial refuge from our hectic, frustrating, and often confusing world. Whether it is a place like Yosemite National Park, or the nearby city park or county forest preserve, each has its own virtues and importance. They all deserve our support and protection. Nothing dollarable is ever safe, as the example of Hetch Hetchy shows. Even still, Hetch Hetchy is a beautiful place. But perhaps some day that dam can come down, and it can restore itself to its pristine grandeur.