between the bars

Graphite painted on paper
12″ x 18″

 

“To summarize the summary of the summary: people are a problem.”
― Douglas Adams

The Barred Owl is a highly adaptable species of owl endemic to eastern North America. Their range began to expand beyond the Mississippi river to the western coast of the US around the turn of the 20th century

Because the Barred Owl has a broad diet and can adapt to a variety of habitats, the species has inadvertently pushed birds with more specialized diet and habitat requirements, like the Northern Spotted Owl (see my last post), out of their native habitats. The Northern Spotted Owl depends on old growth forest to thrive. Barred Owls also prefer wooded areas, but they can tolerate pockets of wooded urban areas just fine.

Competition in nature is fierce, and the survival of a species is dependent on their ability to cope with various environmental changes over time. While humans have been busy rapidly altering the natural landscape of North America over the past century, many species have been unable to keep up with these drastic changes. Old growth forest, as the name implies, can’t simply be restored in one, or even 2 or 3, human lifetimes.

The point of all of this is that these two owls are caught in the crosshairs of a heated debate between scientists, conservationists, and the logging industry about what the future should look like.

Ultimately, this is an issue of land, and of humanity’s historic disregard of it. Without the protection of old growth habitat and somehow managing direct competitors like the Barred Owl, the Northern Spotted Owl will vanish.

Is this simply “survival of the fittest?” Or do humans have an inherent responsibility to try our best to help all species survive–especially since we are the ones who so quickly destroyed their land in the first place? How can we balance the desires of industry versus the needs for a functioning ecosystem?

As it stands, the Barred Owl is facing heavy culling to manage their population over the next decade. My head and heart are at odds with this decision, as they are with so many other complex conservation issues.

As Douglas Adams cheekily surmised, people certainly are a problem. But people can also be the solution.

 

heart over mind

Graphite painted on paper
12″ x 18″
Private collection

 

While working on this drawing, I ruminated on the future of this beautiful and delicate species that has been so compromised by destructive human activity.

The old growth habitat the Northern Spotted owl (NoSpo) thrives in has all but vanished, and more adaptable species have infiltrated their land. The survival of this humble little owl and its important role in the food chain of ancient forests is now dependent on the decisions humanity makes from here on out regarding land usage rights, logging laws, and restoration plans. It’s up to us to know, to care, enough to protect this species now

And oh, how precarious is the walk along the wire between the human head and the human heart.

The NoSpo may very well already be condemned to extinction. The scientifically-trained biologist side of me more or less believes that. But the tender side, the deep- down-in-my-naively-romantic-gut side, believes that right now, RIGHT NOW, any positive steps we take toward habitat restoration, rewilding, and wildlife rehabilitation will be helpful in the long run.

Like I said, the science brain tells my romantic heart of its romanticism. But both views are valid, and both views sing of boundless hope for a brighter future.

 

kingdom of things unseen

Graphite painted on paper
12″ x 18″

 

Have you ever felt the haunting echo of a Great Horned Owl’s call pulse through your bones in the dead of night?

If not, I urge you: wander out alone into some forgotten wood at dusk and pitch your tent at the feet of the old and twisted pines. Try to keep warm with a feather-filled coat as you stoke your feeble fire. Lie shivering on the forest floor, tangled in frayed scraps of memories, drifting into restless sleep as Night’s gaping maw yawns to swallow you whole with your loneliness.

Suddenly you wake, startled by the stab of a too-close cry: WHOOOO

A cry, an alarm, no–
a question: WHO?

Who interrupts my nighttime hunt, my moonless dance, my silent stealth?

Who dares enter my realm, my terra incognita, my cryptic fortress of retreat?

Who?

Who are you
When you’re all alone
Beneath the star-dusted dark
In this kingdom of things unseen
Perched on high and watching
With their eyes and talons and wings?

Who?
Who?
Who?