ecology Archives - Macska Moksha Press

What’s “invasive” in this photo? Let’s take a close look

July 11, 2024 by Kollibri terre Sonnenblume

Hay field as observed from within a wetland reserve, with so-called “invasive” plants in foreground

The other day I went into the nearby town of Sebastapol to do grocery shopping. In no hurry to return to the sweltering heat of the farm, I went to a wetland reserve on the edge of town to seek some shade by water. I found a good spot to enjoy and on the way I stopped to take this photo to share with my readers.

Between the path and border of the reserve is mostly Himalayan Blackberries and Poison Hemlock, both much maligned as “invasive” plants, as well as a collection of other “weedy” plants below them, at least some also categorized that way. Beyond the border is a huge irrigated field of what I assume is a hay crop because it’s grass (or grasses). Beyond that is a line of trees, mostly native Oaks. I don’t know what’s on the other side of the trees, but the landscape of Sonoma County is dominated by agriculture, vineyards more often than not. Indeed, I was surprised to see a crop that wasn’t wine grapes. Oaks also grew along the path, and their branches are hanging down in the top of the photo.

The very first Blackberries were ripening, and no flowers remained. The clusters of berries, resembling loose bunches of grapes, dangled invitingly towards the path, but most were still green, only a few were red, and precious few dark purple. I’m happy to report that I got to enjoy a single, perfect juicy one, sweetened by the sun. I’m looking forward to more!

The Hemlock was past flowering but its fruits were not yet dried into seeds. The foliage was drained of its vibrant green but was not yet desiccated. Given that they are not perennial, I was seeing these plants near the end of their lives, at their peak of maturity, fulfilling their raison d’être: to reproduce.

Environmentalist & anti-war goals go hand-in-hand

April 3, 2024 by Kollibri terre Sonnenblume

The remains of Japanese dead, equipment and caved-in bunkers on ‘Scraggy Hill’ which was captured by 10th Gurkha rifles in fierce fighting in the Shenam area during the Battle of Imphal, 1944.

I’ve been anti-war as long as I can remember. When I got a call from a military recruiter in high school, I already had the clarity of conviction to give him an unambiguous no, and he didn’t have any chance of budging me (although he tried). Everything I’ve learned about war since then only increased my dedication to the principle.

As the song goes: “War can’t give life. It can only take it away.”

I’ve also been a tree-hugger for as long as I remember and for me, my anti-war ethic resonates in harmony with my opposition to the needless killing of any living creature, including plants.

The human toll of warfare is tragic beyond accounting in lives brutally cut short, grievous injuries suffered, cultural heritage lost (museums, religious structures, libraries, schools) and to vital infrastructure destroyed (hospitals, power plants, reservoirs). War as now fought has been with us at least since the establishment of agriculture, and as technology has advanced, its devastating abilities have escalated. Last century was the bloodiest in human history and we must we must make sure that record stands. Armed conflict at that scale with the current arsenal would be nightmarish beyond reckoning.

Less spoken of, but gaining increasing attention, are war’s effects on the environment. Not just active war-making, but the consequences of all the industries, institutions and infrastructure that supports it; what we could put together under the heading of “militarism. Effects include the ruination of habitat and farmland by battle, the killing and disruption of wildlife, the release of lethal pollutants, the damaging processes of weapon manufacturing, and the large-scale release of carbon emissions. Over all this hangs the threat of a nuclear winter, the worst environmental disaster imaginable.

A landscape dammed by beavers, grazed by elk, monitored by wolves and shaped by fire

February 10, 2024 by Kollibri terre Sonnenblume

Aerial view of Willamette Valley, Oregon [Oregon Department of Transportation, CC BY 2.0]

An excerpt from the book Nikki Hill and I are working on, working title, “Don’t Blame the Messengers: A critique of the ‘invasive plant’ narrative.”

Let’s picture ourselves in a hot air balloon, floating over a valley. Below us is a patchwork of agricultural fields, encompassed by straight lines and precise angles, crisscrossed by ribbons of asphalt and gravel; a landscape of human geometry continuous except for the wends and bends of rivers and streams. The hundreds of fenced polygons vary in hue over the season as different crops bloom: yellow Canola, Camelina or Mustard; white Meadowfoam; blue Flax; crimson or pink Clover.

Every crop is planted with the goal of maximum density: Wheat is drill–seeded in crowded blocks. Wine grapes hang on trellises hundreds of feet long. Hops climb wires held 15-20’ high by tall pols. Peppermint, purple-stemmed and glossy-leafed, is packed into wide files. Sunflowers stand shoulder to shoulder. Hazelnut orchards are as precisely laid out as military cemeteries. Close rows of Christmas tree march up the slopes where the soil is rockier. Nurseries raise hundreds of species of landscaping plants in thousands of plastic pots set out in the sun, under shade cloth, or in hoop-houses. Animal agriculture is also here, and a few pastures hold cows, goats or sheep, being raised for meat, milk or fiber, and some long sheds cruelly confine chickens and pigs. The feed grain for these unhappy creatures is imported from other regions.

Only here and there do we see plots of vegetables bound for farmers markets and grocery stores, such as Kale, Cilantro, Summer Squash, Beets, Radishes, Sweet Corn, and Pumpkins.

The biggest crop by far in this valley is grass seed, as in grass for lawns and golf courses. Virtually the entire US production of Annual Ryegrass, Perennial Ryegrass, Bentgrass, and Fine Fescue comes from here.ⁱ Over 50% of the total farmland is planted in grass seed.

This is the Willamette Valley in the US state of Oregon, one of the most ideal locations for agriculture in the lower 48 due to its fertile soils, abundant water, mild winters and reasonable summers.

Reindigenizing the Anthropocene

May 24, 2021 by Kollibri terre Sonnenblume

Camas, a Native American first food of the western US, as observed at the Eloheh Indigenous Center for Earth Justice in Oregon [photo by author]

This essay is a response to “Redefining the Anthropocene,” by Erik Molvar, which was published on Counterpunch on May 13, 2021. I recommend that it be read first.

First let me first stress that I am not calling out Molvar personally or even specifically here. As a staunch opponent of livestock grazing on public lands, I greatly value the work of the Western Watersheds Project, of which Molvar is the executive director, and I definitely encourage people to support the organization. As for my critique of his article, what I see as an omission his part is common in environmental circles and is by no means his alone. Also, as I attempt to illustrate a bigger picture, I depart from the context of his article, and it’s entirely possible that we are in accord once I do so, and that his omission was merely an oversight.

Secondly, I totally agree with Molvar that we must work to restore “natural, functioning ecosystems” on the planet, and that this work must include both the prevention of “artificially-caused extinctions” and the protection of “healthy ecosystems.” I also support the campaign he mentions that seeks to safeguard 30% of the planet by 2030 and 50% by 2050.

Where Molvar falls short, in my opinion, is in the view he presents of “humanity.” To illustrate what I mean, here are a few snippets:

“I propose a new definition of the Anthropocene, as the age in which humanity has become not only recklessly out of balance with nature but also an overwhelming negative force of ecological destruction.”
“By recognizing the Anthropocene as the period where humankind has gotten out of balance with nature…”
“It’s our fault, as a species. All of it… That’s where humanity, with our monomania for economic growth and exploitation of natural resources, is right now as a species.”

What’s missing in these quotations, and indeed in the rest of the article, is any reference to indigenous humanity, past or present. I contend that with that omission, we cannot comprehend what “natural, functioning ecosystems” are nor how to return to behaviors that encourage them.

This is for two reasons:

1) Many of the “natural, functioning ecosystems” we hope to restore included indigenous humans as a key element. They were participants in the dynamic equilibrium of their ecologies as much as the flora, fauna, fungus, etc. We can compare their absence to the lack of any other species, like Buffalo to prairies, Beavers to riparian zones, or Wolves everywhere. When they are gone, nothing works the same as it did.

2) As “civilized” humans, we are handicapped by cultural traditions that not only disconnect us from what is wild, collectively and individually, but actively work to suppress what is wild. We’ve got too much baggage and too many blinders to take on the task of wild restoration on our own. We need the help of our indigenous kin to find our way back. (Note: coming from a primitivist perspective, I use the terms “civilized” and “civilization” in a literal sense to denote urban/agricultural societies as opposed to gatherer-hunter/wildtending cultures, and do not attach a positive or admirable value to them.)

This is What Collapse Looks Like

July 22, 2020 by Kollibri terre Sonnenblume

It’s time to normalize the word, “collapse,” to describe the ongoing conditions in the US.

Some would counter it’s well past time—and I won’t argue with that—but I’d say we can no longer credibly claim that it’s too early to make this call.

“Decline” has been happening for decades at this point, as manifested in trends such as increasing class inequality, decreasing wages (as relative to inflation), higher infant mortality, lower life expectancy, a disintegrating social safety net, explosive growth of the prison-industrial complex, deteriorating educational system, etc. More and more people have been feeling the squeeze in their efforts to get by, even if establishment voices make claims to the contrary about “recovery.”

But “collapse” is more than “decline.” It’s when the system has lost enough integrity that it’s gone beyond the point of no return. With the multiple levels of disruption that have accompanied the COVID pandemic, we have passed that point.

Interview with a Tree-sitter

June 17, 2020 by Kollibri terre Sonnenblume

View from the tree-sit (Photo courtesy Redwood Forest Defense)

On June 9th and 12th, I interviewed Lupine, a tree-sitter who is currently participating in a Redwood Forest Defense campaign to stop logging at a site in Humboldt County, California. We spoke on the phone, and though we were disconnected several times by a weak signal, we were able to have a great conversation. Tree-sitters have always been heroes to me, and I really appreciated the chance to connect with someone from the newest generation to be out there fighting the good fight.

What follows is a partial transcript, edited for clarity. You can listen to the entire interview here.

Kollibri: So where did I reach you? Are you up in the tree today?”

Lupine: Yes

Kollibri: What’s the view like from up there?

Lupine: The tree I‘m in is kind of in the middle of the grove of trees that are still standing. So, it’s nice. There’s Redwoods on one side and a grove of Red Alders on the other side. The clearcut is a little bit down the hill. It’s like 50 or 60 feet away and I can see it. And I can see the ocean from here. If I climb to the top of the tree, I can see pretty far south. I think I’m seeing Arcata Bay.

Kollibri: Wow, that’s a beautiful view. I mean, except for the clearcut.

Lupine: Totally. Yeah, the clearcut is a trip. It means we have really good sunsets here because there’s a really open view, but it also amplifies the freeway noise, and it itself is really horrible to witness.

Kollibri: So you’ve had the tree-sit up since about April 1, I believe?

Lupine: Yeah, that’s right. It’s not a joke. It’s been 70 days today.

For People, Planet & Peace: Interview with Lisa Savage, Ind. Candidate for Senate in Maine

May 11, 2020 by Kollibri terre Sonnenblume

Lisa Savage is running for Senate in the state of Maine, against Republican incumbent, Susan Collins. Lisa is long-time antiwar and environmental organizer, as well as being a public school teacher and a grandmother. Although she has been an active member of the Green Party, Lisa is running as an independent candidate due to restrictive ballot access laws in Maine. The state does, however, boast the advantage of having ranked choice voting, which gives independent candidates a better shot.

I interviewed Lisa for my podcast, “Voices for Nature & Peace,” on May 7th, 2020, and we covered a lot of ground: COVID-19 relief (including her call for a People’s Bail-Out), healthcare, agriculture, campaigning during a pandemic, the recently released documentary, “Planet of the Humans,” the Green New Deal, and US militarism. If she wins, she will certainly be one of the most progressive people to ever serve in the US Senate.

What follows is a partial transcript of our conversation. Listen to the full interview here.

Coming Atrocities

February 5, 2020 by Kollibri terre Sonnenblume

Clear-cut in Humboldt County, 2016, making way for Cannabis cultivation

My perspectives on culture, politics and contemporary life in general have been profoundly informed by the time I’ve spent in rural areas, outside of cities, which has been most of the last decade. I have been in forests and deserts, grasslands and wetlands, mountains and coastal areas. And lots and lots of agricultural zones. One thing has struck me everywhere: When it comes to environmental destruction, most city people have no idea how bad it is. It’s not their fault; they just don’t get out there, and the media doesn’t report it. But the ignorance—however unintentional—has consequences.

We All Need to Be Tree Huggers Now

January 14, 2020 by Kollibri terre Sonnenblume

The Author in the Oregon Cascades (Photo by N.Hill)

Nearly everything about contemporary human life needs to change if we are to seriously address the multiple environmental crises that are facing the planet, but today I will focus on just one topic: trees.

Trees are amazing creatures.

They are found throughout the world, in a wide range of habitats, from elevations below sea level up to alpine; in wetlands and deserts; standing solo or closely communed. The “timber line” is a clear mark on any mountain; above it, needle-bearing perennials give way to lichen-speckled stone that sleeps under snow or basks in the sun, and is softened ephemerally by blossoming annuals.

Mangroves mark coast lines, Junipers rocky ridges, Cottonwoods prairie cricks, Aspens storm-wracked heights and Pines rain-shadow slopes.

Juniper tree in Klamath County, CA (Photo by the author)

From the equator to the tundra, forests thrive thickly, teeming with life micro and macro, nourishing and being nourished by those who gather on their branches, in their shade and among their roots. A pulse of life runs through the whole system, in bark, flicking tails and toadstool stems.

Trees pull water from deepest root tip to highest twig, and transpire it into the sky. They convert sunlight into sugar. They are constantly communicating with each other, with fungus, with insects, and so on and on.

How Blaming Nader in 2000 Paved the Way for Today’s Neo-Fascism

December 9, 2019 by Kollibri terre Sonnenblume

The whole aim of practical politics is to keep the populace alarmed by menacing it with an endless series of hobgoblins, all of them imaginary. -H.L. Mencken — *Collage by author. Background image sampled from Bin Im Garten, Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.*

The lurch to the right by the entire US political establishment over the last twenty years has been both significant and alarming.

I was recently reminded of how bad things have gotten by the 20th anniversary of the Battle of Seattle, an event that sparked a brief period of radical resistance in the US, and which jump-started my own activism. As I sifted through my memories from that time, I realized that a lot has changed.

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