I Like the Way They Think

For several years, I have been thinking about the possibilities for preserving an area that has special meaning for me, and as it turns out, the Washington State Department of Fish and Wildlife had similar thoughts.

One of my first introductions to outdoor life was fishing in Pacific County in Washington state. Aside from timber companies and people out fishing and hunting, the area had little human activity. It was a special place to get away and fish with my dad.

Over the years, my connection to the area has grown. I have thought it would make a good place for some organization to purchase and preserve for wildlife and recreation. 

To my surprise, when the Department of Fish and Wildlife announced its new round of proposed property acquisitions for 2024, a portion of the area where I fish was included in the list. Of course, the announcement would have made me happy even if I hadn't previously thought about ways of conserving the area, but the fact that they had found a place that I felt deserved protection made the news especially sweet. I submitted my comments with enthusiastic support for the acquisition.

We'll have to wait and see if the Department of Fish and Wildlife goes through with the proposal, but I like the way they think, so I have high hopes.

No on Initiative 2117

In recent years, I've gravitated more toward direct action than politics, but every once in a while, something important comes up in politics that requires attention, and Initiative 2117 on Washington state's ballot this fall is one of those important issues.

I-2117 seeks to repeal the state's cap on greenhouse gas emissions, and I think Washingtonians should vote no.

After watching inaction on so many levels throughout my lifetime, I was very happy when Washington state passed its Climate Commitment Act in 2021. On its own, the legislation couldn't stop global warming, but it was one positive step forward. It created limits on greenhouse gas emissions and helped fund projects that would allow Washingtonians to prepare for global warming's effects on our region.

This year, wealthy conservatives introduced I-2117 to repeal the legislation, jeopardizing the pollution standards and the projects that would help mitigate the impacts of global warming.

I'm voting no on I-2117, and if you live in Washington, I hope you will too.

A Strong Sense of Place

One of the things my connection to the environment has given me is an understanding of how valuable a sense of place can be.

A sense of place helps you understand where you belong, and it can guide you to where you're going. In addition, it can provide stability when the rest of the world becomes unstable. The grounding it offers can even keep you out of some undesirable circumstances.

Sense of place can also mean something a little different but equally as helpful. If people are attuned to their surroundings, they can determine if those surroundings are a good fit for them. In essence, people can listen to what places have to say and use that information to make solid decisions and form lasting connections to environment.

Sometimes, when a sense of place is strong enough, a person finds harmony in the world.

Road Trips with a Cat

I may not be a fan of the Seattle Mariners, but I do like it when people help animals in need, so Seattle closer Andrés Muñoz is an MVP in my book.

Muñoz made news recently when he revealed that he'd adopted a cat that now accompanies him when the team is on road trips. The cat had been abandoned by a previous owner in Mexico. After hearing about its situation, Muñoz stepped up to give it a home. He and his wife then made the decision to bring the cat on team road trips because they didn't want to add stress to its life by leaving it in the care of someone else.

Such concern for the cat demonstrates a high degree of empathy. Also, it shows how strong the bond between humans and animals can become.

Muñoz is a pitcher, but he hit a home run by helping this cat.

When Martina McBride Showed Me How to Put My Voice into What I Do

Looking back, I probably couldn't have chosen a better person to teach me how to use my voice than Martina McBride.

In July 1994, I first watched McBride's music video for "Independence Day," a song that called attention to the issue of domestic violence. The powerful message of the song and the intensity of the video's images instantly grabbed ahold of me. Even as a kid, I recognized that the singer had done something special: She wasn't just entertaining people for a living; she was trying to make a difference by putting her voice into her work.

From that time on, I was a fan of McBride. She had an exceptional voice and a social conscience, and she continued making music to make a difference.

When it came time for me to find jobs, I made sure to look for ones that mattered. I couldn't sing like McBride, but I could make a difference with what I chose to do. Jobs that communicated about environmental issues were of particular interest because I had always loved animals and the environment.

I have been fortunate enough to find jobs that I think made a difference in society, and many of them have involved some form of environmental communication. Even this blog is a testament to my desire to use my voice for the environment.

McBride's "Independence Day" is an iconic song that has made a major impact on the world, but its less heralded legacy can be found in the way it taught me how to use my voice 30 years ago.

Thanks, Martina! And happy birthday!

Matters in My Own Hands

My recent experiences volunteering for Conservation Northwest's Cascades to Olympics program have produced a lot of lessons, and one of the most important realizations is the power of action over politics.

Even as a kid, the environment and animals mattered a lot to me, and I wanted to translate that into actions that would make for a better world: less pollution, more environmental protections, and protection of other species.

I suppose it was inevitable that my concern for environmental issues would lead to an interest in politics and how political action influenced the environment. However, I came to place too much emphasis on this aspect of the environmental movement. Because I did so, I became disheartened when the politicians of the United States failed time and time again to address global warming. That disappointment began to weigh on me in very personal ways. Feeling powerless is not a good feeling, especially when important issues like global warming are left unresolved.

In early 2023, I began volunteering to clear wildlife corridors for the Cascades to Olympics program, which highlights the importance of southwestern Washington state for wildlife in the region. By reconnecting portions of habitat, the program helps species get where they need to go and find more suitable habitat as the climate changes.

Almost instantly, I felt better. The physical activity of improving the corridors was a good outlet for my frustration at the country's political failures. It was also a chance to connect with others and build community. Perhaps most importantly, it allowed me to translate my concern for the environment into tangible work that could make a difference right away in a place that meant a lot to me.

While I was volunteering last week, I spoke with Conservation Northwest's project manager, and he noted how a lot of people in the area are becoming interested in helping with the program. He said he thought one reason was that participating in it gave people hope in what otherwise seems like a hopeless situation. That's when I realized exactly why volunteering on the project had made me feel better. I said, "You know, I think working on this project has done more to help animals prepare for global warming than any politician who has ever received my vote."

Political action isn't a waste of time, but when it comes down to what's most important, it's sometimes best to take matters into your own hands.

Steady Recovery

The wolf population in Washington state increased by 20 percent in 2023, continuing a string of increases that have helped wolves make a steady comeback in the state.

A recent report from the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife put the state's wolf population at 260 individuals in 2023. That's an increase of 44 wolves from 2022.

With the 20 percent increase, 2023 represents the 15th year in a row that the state's wolf population has increased. During that time, the average yearly increase has been 23 percent, so last year's results are right in line with the overall trend.

After being eliminated from the state in the 1930s, wolves did not return until 2008. Since then, they've made steady progress in reestablishing themselves as a key part of Washington's ecosystem, particularly in the eastern part of the state. If this pattern continues, they will hopefully begin to once again take hold in western Washington as well.

The growth of Washington's wolf population is an encouraging reminder that environmental-recovery efforts can pay long-term dividends.

Hot Streak

Our planet currently finds itself in the middle of a terrible string of temperature records.

In sports, hot streaks are cheered. They mean an athlete or a team is consistently playing well and might even be putting up record-breaking numbers.

When it comes to global warming, no one wants a hot streak. Increasing global temperatures have far-reaching, long-term consequences for the planet and all its inhabitants, and we've already started to see record heat and some of its impact.

The planet's latest hot streak is the most alarming yet. According to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA), after March 2024 turned out to be the hottest March on record, the month became the 10th-consecutive month to set a monthly record for global heat. In other words, the hottest ever June, July, August, September, October, November, December, January, February, and March have all been recorded since June 2023. This streak will probably end at some point, but its implications and consequences will be with us for a long time.

It's becoming difficult to see an end to the impacts of global warming.

I Wonder Why

A negative and growing trend in recent years raised a perplexing question for me: Why would anyone travel out of their way to trash or deface public lands?

To be honest, I haven't really found a sufficient answer to that question. However, in pondering it, I did realize that littering, dumping, or tagging on public lands, including parks, wildlife areas, preserves, and hiking trails, destroys more than just the environment of those spaces; it also destroys a shared commitment.

I don't know why people leave litter or graffiti in out-of-the-way public spaces. (It seems like a lot of effort to make when the same things could be done without having to drive anywhere.) No matter the reason though, these actions undermine our sense of connection to the defaced places, the commitment we make to caring for the places, and the societal bond that forms through such commitments. 

Maybe that's the point of leaving that trash or graffiti. If it is, I'm still left with my question: Why?

A Cool Way to End One Year and Start Another

The cold of late fall and winter brought me a warm-weather bird to end 2023 and start 2024.

Late last year, I began encountering a surprising bird on my jogs, and the sightings carried over into this year, giving me the opportunity to add the black phoebe to my list of birds identified in each year.

Historically, black phoebes have avoided the Pacific Northwest in all seasons, preferring the warmer climate farther south. In fact, the fist place I ever saw one was in San Diego. However, as the planet has warmed, the species has moved north. Some individuals even winter over in the PNW. For example, I saw one in western Washington in December 2021 during an especially cold and snowy spell.

Having seen a black phoebe in Washington before, I wasn't totally surprised to see one in November 2023. What stood out about this specimen was how long it stayed in the area. Starting on December 24, I saw it on every jog for six weeks. At first, I'd go out jogging and wonder if I'd see the bird. Then, the sightings became so reliable, I would jog with the anticipation of seeing the streak extended another day. Finally, on February 5, I didn't see it, and I've only seen it once since then. Still, the streak was fun while it lasted, and it allowed me to put the bird on my yearly list for both 2023 and 2024.

In a world changed by global warming, sightings of black phoebes in the PNW might become common, but I will always consider it a special memory how this individual visited in the cold months of the year.