Change is inevitable

Tonight CNN reports on a renowned scientist predicting apocalyptic change to the Great Barrier Reef.  The story is disheartening.  But I did attend a lecture by another marine scientist from University of Maine which gave me a more nuanced view.

Humans are perpetrating a shift in world species.  The analysis is clear.  The question though is whether the detrimental changes on our reefs are permanent.  Permanence depends on how we measure data over time horizons.  Over a year? decades? Thousands of years?  A more interesting question is whether we can rehabilitate coral reefs in a relatively short time horizon.  To what extent are they capable of rebound?  We may not be able to exact immediate change to a rise in water temperature.  But we can change our appetite for what we consume from the sea.

Coral bleaching is the result of a stressed coral reef.  A stressed coral reef, inhabited by peculiar animal species, evolves to a reef transformed by the next invader species: green plants and algae that suffocate the coral animals.

The UM professor who has studied coral reefs over the last twenty years has also documented how coral reefs rebound after bleaching events.  Parrot fish are essential to a functioning reef — if you have ever snorkeled in a functional reef, you can hear the chomping of parrot fish as they graze algae on the reefs.  This is essential pruning.

His studies around the world shows a dramatic ability of coral reef rebound after bleaching events when islands adjust fishing to ban exportation of parrot fish.  My takeaway: never buy parrotfish in the supermarket.

My further takeaway: change is inevitable.  Humans do own the world.  And a small change in water temperature affects the life cycle.  A rise in temperature changes the energy cycle and affects a living organism’s immunity as it redirects its resources to fight adverse environmental changes and the invasion of new species.  The question is whether we can adjust the rate of change, and how we manage the change.

Picture the Gulf of Maine.  In my grandfather’s day, we fished large cod.  Over time, we decimated the predator species that kept everything in the lower food chain in check.  Including lobster.  By reducing the population of predator species, we allowed lobsters to flourish.  The Gulf of Maine is now a single species fish farm.

Which is fine so long as the Gulf of Maine continues to be in the sweet spot of temperatures required for lobsters.  A rise in temperature means lobsters move north and Maine would lose a vital piece of its economy.

But the story doesn’t stop there.  As the waters warm, new species move in.  We now see black cod in Maine.

Climate change is a funny thing.  How important it is depends on the length of time reference.  Do we act to preserve the climate and underwater habitat as it exists today?  Are the changes we see inevitable given that climate changes imperceptibly each year but dramatically as measured over thousands of years?  But given the zig zag of change over thousands of years, is the change we see today significant? How would we know given the paltry dollars devoted to environmental research?

Climate change is a hot button issue.  At the very least, there are things humans can do to slow the rate of change for those things most vital to the globe.  We should look at the impact of fossil fuels on global warming which does change the ocean’s life cycles.  We should also take steps to enact global regulation to sustain our fish population.  And don’t buy parrot fish in the supermarket.

Change is upon us, and human activity is increasing the rate of change.  A bleached coral reef can be rehabilitated.  Small steps make not take us to where we were but they can slow the pace for where we end up.

And now some photos

What I do in Maine.

Eat local produce with the fam and hopefully grow some of our own.

my new blueberry shrubs:

what we can expect next year:

Eat lots and lots of lobster!

Enjoy Sunday gatherings at Head Tide (more on that later)

Make jewelry:

And look at Venus reflected.

City and Country

It has been a while since I last wrote.  I was busy with family and travelling a bit.  The first part of my stay was quite solitary and some days I didn’t really speak aloud.  So when I had to interact with people in my travels, there were  immediate contrasts.

I live in a big city suburb and I have, unfortunately, incorporated some traits that I don’t really like.  My commute is finely-tuned and it only takes a small unforeseen event to throw everything into chaos.  It’s stressful.  I am impatient, uncharitable and unforgiving.  It is the armor I wear just to get by.  I’m surrounded by people but we are alarmingly disconnected, hurtling through our daily lives with little time for self-reflection and no time to consider our place in a larger community.

In contrast, people in Maine seem genuinely content.  There is a little traffic on Fridays as “people from away” come here.  Mainers are generally patient and tolerant of differences in appearance and in economic privilege.

In true country fashion, they hope that you will learn something while you are here and shed city ways.  If traffic is backed up along Route 1 in Wiscasset, it is a trifling inconvenience to allow someone to turn left.  If you happen to come behind another car along a country road, a country driver will pull over to let you pass.  As my contractor explained, “you look like you must be in a hurry.”  Two lessons there.  First, ask yourself whether you really need to be in such a hurry.  Maine country roads are a joy for someone who normally has to fight 45 minutes of traffic to travel 10 miles.  Second, pulling over for a car racing up your tailpipe is a lesson in doing for others what you would have them do for you.  Where hospitals are separated by long stretches of country miles, maybe the car behind you really does have somewhere to be.

This week I was driving around Miami.  I got honked at for trying to turn left.  A guy yelled at me at the gas station as I was trying to explain that he was welcome to use the available right handed pump since I was waiting for the left handed pump.  I was trying to be neighborly in a place where interactions are presumptively hostile.  The guy one pump over witnessing this astonishing exchange laughed and said “welcome to Miami!”

Truthfully, this easily could have happened in DC, although it might not even occur to me to be neighborly.  But I would be surprised if it happened to me in Maine.  There is no room for such hostility in a place where everyone knows your grandparents.  Because here, when my holding tank needs pumping on a holiday weekend, I have my septic guy’s home phone number.  My parents used to call his dad, and when he passed away, his son took over the business.  He will charge me a fair price, and I will give him a jar of homemade jam.