Category Archives: animals

Echoes of Muybridge – Photographic Pioneer

Do the four jackdaws taking off across the left-right diagonal here remind you of anything?

Jackdaws taking off
Was Muybridge inspired by their ancestors?  Click for larger image.  (Photo: Tim Jones, Darkroommatter.com)
Eadweard Muybridge
Eadweard Muybridge (Photo: WikiCommons)

For me, the regular spacing and apparent connected motion of the birds is reminiscent of  the work of nineteenth century photography pioneer, Eadweard Muybridge.

Born in 1830, Muybridge photographed many sequences of birds in flight like the one below.  But he’s probably better known for his animations of galloping horses, revealing for the first time that, at certain points, horses literally fly.

Eadweard Muybridge's Bird in Flight
Eadweard Muybridge’s Bird in Flight

Muybridge’s techniques revealed an animal’s true motion, knowledge that until his arrival had been lost in a blur of busy limbs.

Before photography, the motion of horses in motion was often mis-represented. Baronet with Sam Chifney Up, by George Stubbs.  (Photo: Tim Jones of a painting at Huntington Library)
Before photography, the motion of horses in motion was often mis-represented. Baronet with Sam Chifney Up, by George Stubbs. (Photo: Tim Jones of a painting at Huntington Library)

I should explain that Muybridge made sequenced compilations of stills taken of a single animal, while my picture is a happenstance capture of several birds taking off in close proximity and in apparent sequence: reminiscent of an airfield scramble or ducks flying up a wall.  So I’ve got an illusion evocative of Muybridge, not a simulation, and the motions of different birds cannot be linked. (Or can they? Formation take-off?  I’m reminded never to under-estimate the Corvidae family!)

By another happenstance, it turns out Muybridge was born and raised in the town where I now live: Kingston-upon-Thames in Surrey.  And while he spent most of his working life in America, Muybridge left the materials of his important photographic legacy to his home town, where they reside in the Kingston Museum and Archive, five minutes walk from where I’m sitting.

A good selection of Muybridge material is normally on display in the museum, representative of his animal and human figure work, but also featuring his definitive 1878 panorama of San Francisco (link to America Hurrah website).

Muybridge’s San Francisco Panorama (Photo credit: America Hurrah)

And if you’d like to find out more about Muybridge and his legacy, there couldn’t be a better time.  Beginning this week, Wednesday 8th September, the Tate Britain will launch a Muybridge retrospective, and our own Kingston Museum will, from September 18th, host the Muybridge Revolutions exhibition, featuring unseen exhibits like Muybridge’s collection of Zoöpraxiscope discs.  The Kingston exhibition is part of a broader range of Muybridge related activities being coordinated by Kingston University with Kingston Council.

Fallow deer.  (Photo:Tim Jones, Darkroommatter.com)

But returning to my jackdaws in a more romantic frame.  I like to ponder Muybridge walking the same routes I take  today as I photograph the wildlife of Home Park; his meeting the ancestors of present-day jackdaws, deer and rabbits; and with his frustration at the unfathomable rapidity of their movements, the seed of motion photography being sown….

Update 12 October 2010

The powers that be are projecting Muybridge animations onto the side of Kingston on Thames police station. Very nice.

Muybridge on Kingston upon Thames police station
Muybridge on Kingston upon Thames police station (Photo:Tim Jones)
Muybridge on Kingston upon Thames police station
Muybridge on Kingston upon Thames police station (Photo: Tim Jones)
Muybridge on Kingston upon Thames police station
Muybridge on Kingston upon Thames police station (Photo: Tim Jones)

Blinking Crows

Question to any crow experts out there.  I recently spotted these two standing together, and noticed that they seemed never to blink at the same time – as if consciously taking it in turns.   It’s easy to tell when a crow blinks by the opaque whiteness of the inner eyelid.  This went on for a minute or two.

crow
Nudge, nudge...
crow
Wink, wink...

crow
Say no more...

So, is this some kind of coordinated look-out tactic crows and/or other birds follow to maximise safety?   They were long leisurely blinks, so that might make sense.  Or was this a one off behaviour –  and I’m making up my own stories?

The things that preoccupy one on these warm summer evenings…..

Update September 2010

I found this pic going through my archives; taken in Windsor, UK.  Look at the eyes.   Still a small sample of two.

Blinking crows in Windsor
Blinking crows in Windsor

The Cricket Thermometer – Fact or Fiction?

Can you tell the temperature from how fast crickets chirrup in the evening?   Neil deGrasse Tyson thinks so, according to this Tweet yesterday evening:

thermometer

Sounds like a great idea, and as I’m in the foothills of the San Gabriel mountains – cricket central by my standards  – I’ve tested tested out the theory. 

Dr Tyson is not the first person to suggest you can tell the temperature with a cricket, and he’s only having a bit of fun, so in the worst case he’ll be guilty of spreading, rather than generating, misleading information ;-).

Armed with a  digital recorder and a laboratory thermometer, I quickly found a suitable subject.  The temperature read 65 degrees Fahrenheit.   This is what the chirruping sounded like:

Press the arrow key:

– Cricket at 65F, 20.40hrs

From this sample, using only my ears, I counted 67 chirps in a 15 second period (it’s tricky counting that fast, but I found I could do it by checking off groups of 8 chirps on my fingers).  According to Dr Tyson’s formula, that gives a temperature of 67 plus 40 = 107 F; a whole 42 degrees above the actual temperature.

Why the difference?

We’re doing science here, which means there’s a whole load of stuff to check out before rushing to condemn Dr Tyson for inaccurate tweeting.

  • Was it indeed a cricket I was listening to? Sounded like one, but I didn’t actually see it.
  • Was Neil referring to a specific type of cricket, but the 140 Twitter limited the detail he could provide?  If he’s missed out a division factor of 2 on the cricket count, that would put my number in the right ballpark.
  • Did I listen to the cricket long enough?  Was it in a cricket warm-up or warm-down mode?
  • Was my thermometer broken?  Ideally I’d have two or more to check, calibrated against a standard.  But I don’t think it was the problem.
  • Could the cricket be hiding under someone’s air-conditioning unit outlet?  This isn’t so far fetched actually.  We have one in the house at the moment living under our fridge because it’s warm.
  • Was my sample large enough – both in terms of number of recordings and number of crickets?  I did make four separate recordings and (for now take my word for it) they were pretty similar.  That said, I should really come back over a number of evenings at different times to be sure – right?

Well, in the longer term the sample could get large, as I’ll probably be listening out for these things obsessively for the rest of my life now.

What is a chirp?

Meantime, I wondered if the explanation was down to the definition of a ‘chirp’.  I convinced myself the chirps I had recorded might be doubling up; maybe something the cricket was doing with its legs: ‘chirp-chirp’, ‘chirp-chirp’, etc. – each ‘chirp-chirp’ counting as one ‘chirp’.  Are these double chirps that Neil counted as single chirps?  Was it an issue of resolution and my ears?   To find out, I slowed the recording to 0.19 times its normal speed and re-recorded a sample to get this:

Press the arrow key to stream live:

and a waveform looking like this:

Cricket sound slowed down to x0.19 original

Interestingly, what you hear on the playback isn’t ‘chirp-chirp’ at all; but ‘chirp-chirp-chirp’.  And it doesn’t help us, because each group of three sub-chirps only makes up a single one of our original chirps.  And there is no indication of a slower beat or modulation that would yield a lower chirp count.  My original estimate remember was 67, and if you count the groups on the expanded trace above you’ll find there are 13 in 15 seconds on the slowed down trace or, correcting for the factor of 0.19, gives us 68.4.  Virtually where I started.  The cricket still says it’s 107F when it’s only 65F.  (BTW – you can also hear another animal making an even faster noise in the background.)

Conclusion

In conclusion, accepting all the experimental limitations and caveats listed above, this test alone does not inspire confidence in the formula, and hence, the value of the tweet.

But hey, on the bright side we’ve all learned some possibly quite useless information about crickets, plus, more importantly, something of the pitfalls to watch out for in chronological cricket research (or any research for that matter).

A Bone to Pick with Santa Barbara Museum of Natural History

Before heading back to LA from Santa Barbara last week, Erin and I made a final stop at the local natural history museum.  I’ve blogged before about how great this place is. Not the largest of museums, but somehow managing to cover all the traditional departments through locally themed exhibits – and all in the most beautiful location.

whale skull at santa barbara museum of natural history
Whale skull at Santa Barbara Museum of Natural History, June 2010 (Photo:Tim Jones)

In the 18 months since our last visit, two new exhibitions have appeared, and the bird gallery has reopened following renovation.  But to our surprise, all that is left of the museum’s flagship exhibit – a 72ft Blue Whale skeleton – is it’s head.

The complete whale skeleton in 2008 (Photo:Tim Jones)

Santa Barbara Museum of Natural History
Nice spot..... (Photo:Tim Jones)

For the 20 year old skeleton, one of only five on display in the USA, is in need of a major overhaul.  The skull will be completely replaced, and the remaining bones will be refurbished or replaced.

The $500,000 needed to complete the work is being raised by inviting donors to sponsor individual bones and sections of the skeleton through the ‘Buy-A-Bone’ scheme (links to the Museum’s website).

The right to name this particular Balaenoptera musculus has already gone – for a cool $100k.  But the skull and vertebral column are still up for grabs at $75k and $137k respectively; most of the ribs are available at $25k each, the left flipper at $13k, or one of twelve carpal bones can be yours for the pocket money sum of $500.

So go ahead – pick your bone!

California Anisoptera (California Dragonflies)

Just a few photos of dragonflies taken in and around the San Gabriel foothills.  There are three individuals here: the first golden-colored guy was taken in the hills; the other two were buzzing round a pond in Pasadena.  I believe the red colored one is a Flame Skimmer or Libellula saturata, the blue one is a Blue Dasher Pachydiplax longipennis, and I’m still working on the first guy.

dragonfly

dragonfly

dragonfly

dragonfly

dragonfly

dragonfly

dragonfly

Photos: copyright Tim Jones

Book Review: Second Nature – The Inner Lives of Animals by Jonathan Balcolme

Book review: (Link to Amazon.co.uk) Second Nature: The Inner Lives of Animals

Author: Jonathan Balcombe

Hardcover: 256 pages
Publisher: Palgrave Macmillan
Language English
ISBN-10: 0230613624
ISBN-13: 978-0230613621

I remember as a child eating meat products with names like ‘jellied veal’, ‘liver-sausage’, ‘corned beef’, ‘hazlet’, ‘ox-tail soup’ and ‘tongue’.  They were just labels at the time, for things I put in my mouth.  Only much later would I associate them with animals.

Now, reading Jonathan Balcombe’s new book ‘Second Nature – The Inner Lives of Animals’ I’m asking myself why it took so long to make that rather obvious connection.  In fact, it’s got me thinking about a whole host of issues related to how we as a species perceive and treat other animals – nonhuman beings as Balcombe prefers to call them.   For the issues Second Nature addresses have as much to do with human morality and ethics as they do with animal behaviour.

Balcombe wants to open our eyes to the possibility of accepting animals as fellow sentient beings, with feelings and emotions as real to them as ours are to us; beings with lives that are pleasurable and worth living for their own sake; lives worthy of  sensitivity and respect.  As Balcombe puts it: “My chief aim in this book is to close the gap between human beings and animals – by helping us understand the animal experience, and by elevating animals from their lowly status.”

He begins by setting out the evidence for animal sentience, emotion and feeling, then discusses the implications this has for human attitudes and actions.

Part I summarises the findings of numerous field and laboratory studies that demonstrate a range of animal capabilities, experiences and sensitivities we usually associate more with people.  Part II is a description of how animals use these qualities to interact and communicate between themselves and with other species, including man.  Part III focuses on the relationship between humans and animals, and includes a discussion on popular perceptions and how they are changing with what Balcombe sees as an emerging new paradigm in attitudes and awareness.

Central to Balcombe’s plea is the assertion that humans and animals differ in degree rather than kind.  Each type of animal, Balcombe says, including man, has evolved to operate in its own world, or ‘umwelt’, equipped with an appropriate package of sensory experience and feelings suited to that world.  We shouldn’t assume life experience in one umwelt is inherently superior to that in another.   Humans can never directly experience another animal’s umwelt (who can say what personal echo-location or magnetic navigation feels like? – to use Balcombe’s examples) but we accept that animals have complex sensory capabilities.  Which begs the question why, when emotions and feelings are at least as real and necessary to us as senses in explaining our lives and behaviours, would we deny them in animals?   Second Nature is certainly thought provoking on these questions.

Many readers will I expect, from watching natural history on TV or casual reading, recognise something of the better known case studies about Washoe the chimp, grieving elephants, and intelligent ravens.  That said, the number and diversity of cited studies is impressive, and most of the content is new to me.

Take Kelly the dolphin for example, who was taught to trade paper litter found in her pool for fish, but discovered the fish flow could be maximised by trading smaller pieces of paper torn from a larger sheet she had stashed away at the bottom of the pool.  And tests for empathy, where increased stress reactions were measured in animals who witnessed the suffering of another animal – not necessarily of the same species.

Consciousness is a key theme in Second Nature, with Balcombe describing how chimpanzees have demonstrated a ‘theory of mind’ by showing they are consciously aware of consciousness in other chimps.

Other studies support the proposition that animals, elephants for example, follow individual lives that are the product of their unique experience.  And that animals, like us, deal with feelings over the short and long term; they remember experiences, their memories shaping what they become.  There are even indications that elephants have a sense of the future and their own mortality.   Further examples illustrate conditions ranging from depression in starlings, to post traumatic stress disorder in elephants, to anxiety in mice – including their remarkable ability to self-medicate.

Exploring the relevance of instinct, intelligence and language, Balcombe rejects simplistic models that associate  instinct with animals and intelligence with humans.  Instinct does not preclude conscious experience, and intelligence is not a good measure for moral standing.  As Balcombe puts it: “Animals are as intelligent as they need to be”.   The evidence shows that many animals, far from following some kind of invariant program, are capable of learned behaviour and can adapt flexibly to new challenges.   And as regards language, as it’s not linked to sensory activity, animals are able to suffer with or without it.

Balcombe closes the animal-human gap from both directions, elevating our opinion of animal capabilities while questioning the superiority of our own.  We are reminded that animal senses and capabilities – physical, and on occasion mental – can be superior to ours.  Balcombe points to our penchant for industrial scale cruelty and destruction, questioning our right to label other species as uncivilized.  Our culture, Balcombe says, particularly through the media, overplays the negative aspects of animals’ lives, pushing the ‘red in tooth in and claw’ image of a natural world where animals permanently struggle at the edge of survival, flailing at the smallest injury.

Part III sees Balcolme getting into his narrative stride, explaining where he thinks our relationship with animals might be heading.  Under the heading ‘A New Humanity’ he describes a shift from a traditional attitude of ‘might makes right’ towards a more informed and caring paradigm – a transition he likens to the changes of mind-set that accompanied the end of slavery and the winning of womens’ rights.  The process has already started, with impacts most tangibly captured in animal related legislation for the protection of species, improvements in the treatment of animals we eat, and tighter controls on laboratory animal experimentation.

Interestingly, with Second Nature appealing mostly to our moral sense, Part III includes some purely practical, well stated, arguments for reduced meat consumption based on health, resource conservation and sustainability.  This leads to a brief politico-economic discussion on the compatibility of the capitalist/growth model with sustainable environments; inflammatory territory which Balcombe handles with a welcome non-emotive sense of balance.

The somewhat uneasy relationship science seems to have with the idea of animal feelings is one I find interesting in it’s own right.  Balcolme, a scientist himself, criticises science’s tendency to favour the simplest of plausible theories.  It’s one reason, he says, why we have the dogmatic starting assumption that animals don’t have thoughts and feelings, rather than the other way around.  Conversely, Second Nature and other works on a connected theme (Masson’s and McCarthy’s ‘When Elephants Weep’ comes to mind) are particularly open to criticism when authors use language outside the scientific lexicon.   There may be concensus on what sentience means, consciousness less so; but what to make of words like goodness, compassion, and selflessness?  Personally, I don’t have a problem with Balcombe’s style because I don’t see the issues being wholly resolvable with today’s science; we’d need a workable scientific model of moral behaviour for that.  A scientific proof isn’t going to pop up and tell us to treat animals better, no matter how many books we read.  However, and I suspect this is where Balcombe is coming from, I do think science is the best tool for revealing true animal states that might then be judged logically incompatible with, or at least challenge, established moral and ethical standards.  Of course, how established those standards ever are is a discussion for another day.

On a critical note, and it’s probably the scientist in me kicking up, there were times when I wanted more detail from the case studies, more counter-argument, and deeper discussion of skeptical views.  That the early chapters are crammed with properly referenced case studies is a good thing but, in a work of this length, that means trade-offs in content.  The shear volume of examples also gives the early chapters something of a ‘listy’ feel, although that corrects in the later, more analytical material.   Also, I thought the singling out of Richard Dawkins and Daniel Dennett for criticism was unnecessary and unhelpful, particularly so when Dawkins has discussed the positive implications for animal rights that discovery (or creation) of a hypothetical man-ape hybrid would have.  Examples of the darker side of nature, like the apparently cruel egg-laying behaviour of parasitic wasps, are perhaps over-quoted by the atheist camp, but only as arguments against the existence of a benevolent god, not a celebration.  Moreover, Balcombe might want to keep the secularists on his team.

Despite these minor niggles, I have to confess Second Nature has caused me to think more deeply than I otherwise would about a topic I’d mentally parked.  Commendably, it brings all the relevant issues up to date in one concise volume, and has plenty of references for those who want to dig deeper.

Will Second Nature change readers’ attitudes towards animals?  I think in some cases it will.  What it won’t do is resolve any consequential moral dilemma we might have around that next burger purchase.  That’s something each of us must think about quietly on our own.

Related posts on Zoonomian that may be of interest

Interview with Alan Mootnick, Director of Gibbon Conservation Center, Santa Clarita, CA

The Open Ground. Conference podcast.  Conservation, biodiversity)

Also of interest on other blogs

Carl Zimmer on ‘What it’s like to be a bat’ (Discovery Blog Sept 2010)


The Open Ground – Biodiversity, Science & the Imagination

In June last year, Conservation Today ran a one day public conference – The Open Ground – to raise awareness of issues around biodiversity.  The event aimed to provoke discussion by combining a range of scientific and artistic perspectives.

Will Pearse

The conference write-up by my colleague and fellow science communicator Emma Quilligan has is at Nature Network.  Here I present the audio from the event, endorsed by the organiser Will Pearse, for those unable to join on the day.

As Emma says, The Open Ground itself is something of an exercise in diversity.  As such, the panelists range from academic to activist, and include well known public faces such as the scientist and TV presenter Armand Leroi, and the prize-winning poet and Charles Darwin descendant Ruth Padel.

The proceedings are split into three sessions, each comprising three speaker presentations followed by a panel discussion with audience Q&A.   Without the speakers’ slides, some of the audio isn’t going to make sense; but for the most part it does, and much of the most interesting discussion comes in the panel sessions.

In conclusion, all the participants are speaking for themselves, and the views and opinions expressed don’t necessarily represent my own take on things.  That said, if anyone wants to strike up a comment thread on any of the content, feel free.

Introduction by Will Pearse (Conservation Today)

Session 1 – The Necessities of Conservation

Dr Sam Turvey, Dr Emily Nicholson and Caspar Henderson on the challenges conservationists face.

Caspar Henderson, Dr Sam Turvey, Dr Emily Nicholson (photo: Tim Jones)

Presentations – Session 1

Panel Discussion – Session 1

Session 2 – Biodiversity and the Imagination

Prof. Ruth Padel, Dr Jamie Lorimer, and Melanie Challenger look at biodiversity from the perspective of literature, culture and society.

Dr Jamie Lorimer, Prof.Ruth Padel, Melanie Challenger (photo: Tim Jones)

Presentations – Session 2

Panel Discussion – Session 2

Session 3 – Biodiversity Futures

Prof. Armand Leroi, Prof. John Fa, and Steve Roest on topics ranging from the trade in bushmeat to depletion of the oceans.

Prof. John Fa, Steve Roest, Prof. Armand Leroi (photo: Tim Jones)

Presentations – Session 3

Panel Discussion – Session 3

Few more photos……

Armand Leroi
Ruth Padel
John Fa
Felix Whitton
Tom

(photos: Tim Jones)

Related Links

Guardian Blog on The Open Ground (pre-event)

Announcement on Zoonomian

You Scratch My Back

One of nature’s more fascinating and  charming aspects is displayed when completely  different species interact in ways that are mutually beneficial; it’s called symbiosis.

Fallow Deer with Magpies (Copyright Tim Jones)
Fallow Deer with Magpies (Copyright Tim Jones)

We’ve all seen David Attenborough describe those  little cleaner fish, that peck fungus off killer sharks; and the birds that pick fleas from gazelles in Africa.

But as I discovered one early  UK morning in November, and as these photographs of fallow deer and magpies show, you don’t need to travel beyond suburban Surrey to see similar behaviour.

Deer with magpies (Photo Tim Jones)
Deer with magpies (Copyright Tim Jones)

Deer and magpies (Photo Tim Jones)
Deer and magpies (Copyright Tim Jones)

Deer with magpies (Photo Tim Jones)
Deer with magpies (Copyright Tim Jones)

Deer with magpies (Photo Tim Jones)
Deer with magpies (Copyright Tim Jones)

Deer with magpies (Photo Tim Jones)
Deer with magpies (Copyright Tim Jones)

I’ve not had the time to go overboard researching this convenient pairing, but did find this from an edition of ‘The Condor’ published in 1998:

‘Ectoparasite removal was observed as the cause for Black-billed Magpies’ (Pica pica) pecking on fallow deer (Dama dama). It was also observed that deer that were sitting were preferred by the magpies over deer that were standing. The magpies also seemed to prefer adult males over adult females or calves. The ectoparasitic interaction may be benefiting birds because ectoparasites are one of their sources of food. However, its benefit to the fallow deer has yet to be investigated.’

So the magpies are in it for the munchy ectoparasites – can’t blame them; but what do the deer get out of the deal – I’m guessing a lot less itching?

And so much for the magpie’s preference for seated deer.   What do you think?

Reference
Genov, Peter V., Gigantesco, Paola, Massei, Giovanna; Pub: Cooper Ornithological Society, in ‘The Condor’ 1998, ISSN: 0010-5422

One Forest Fire Too Close to Home

South Western California is one of the world’s most bio-diverse habitats.  The San Gabriel Mountains, north of Los Angeles and south of the Mojave desert, are home to large mammals: including deer, bear, mountain lion and bobcat.  Raccoon and skunk are stealthy night-time visitors to the back gardens of residents, who by day enjoy the company of humming birds, golden oriels and scrub jays.  Lizards scamper on sun-baked rocks, while praying mantis sway, poised – for lunch.

If this all sounds a little wistful, it’s because I’ve enjoyed this region at its best in a form that now – literally – no longer exists.  For in August and September  of this year, 250 square miles of it was destroyed in one of the largest forest fires California has experienced in modern times.  Here is  a time-lapse video of the fire spreading behind NASA JPL, and below that a picture of the local aftermath taken by my wife, Erin.

Scorched Earth in the San Gabriel Mountains
Scorched Earth left by the Station Fire in the San Gabriel Mountains (photo: Erin Conel Jones)

I have to confess that while many thousands of wild animals – including some endangered species – perished in the fire, my immediate thoughts were for my in-laws.  Living in the foothills north of Pasadena, they sat out their fire under a mandatory evacuation order, pondering the fate of house and home in front of a hotel TV in downtown LA.

Thankfully, save for a messy rainfall of ash in the yard, this personal story ended happily (although we remain girded for de-vegetated mudslides induced by the winter rains).  The same cannot be said for the local fauna and flora – or for that matter the carbon footprint of California.

Animals caught in forest fires may run away, bury themselves, or burn and die.  The so-called Station Fire (it started near a ranger station) was unusually intense and fast-moving, making it confusing and difficult to out-run; the charred carcasses of normally brisk bears, deer, and mountain lions were found amongst the smouldering tree stumps.

Those animals sufficiently fleet of foot to escape the immediate effects of a fire still face loss of habitat and possible starvation.  On this occasion, the local populace was put on alert for more frequent visitations from displaced animals and asked to cut some slack for the potentially more dangerous coyote (i.e. don’t just shoot it).

Smaller land animals, such as the endangered Mountain Red-legged Frog; and fish like the Speckled Dace and Arroyo Chub may yet face their greatest challenge with the arrival of winter flood-waters, when ground unsupported by vegetation, but loaded with harmful rock fragments, will wash into fast flowing stream beds.

We might stand back at this point and declare the Station Fire to be just another part of  a natural cycle that has developed over the eons.  Whether a fire is started through an act of arson (as suspected in this case) or by lightning, forest fires invigorate fire-adapted ecosystems – don’t they?

The answer is yes and no –  and this debate won’t end any time soon.  The issues centre on the degree and speed with which man has altered the region’s natural ecosystem.

Fire-suppression policies, whereby unnaturally high fuel stocks are allowed to build up (e.g. pine needles), and forest management practices – for example how densely the forests are allowed to grow – have been blamed as contributors to the intensity and extent of the Station Fire.

But there is no denying that with man on the scene there are fewer places a large cat or bear can move to when fire strikes (a mountain lion was spotted in my in-laws’ drive – and that was before the fire).

Ironically perhaps, this region of California is home to several man-made animal sanctuaries, the inmates of which were themselves threatened by the recent fire.

The Roar Foundation at Shambala Preserve, run by actress Tippi Hedren (of Hitchcock’s ‘Birds’ fame) went on standby to evacuate its collection of large cats – including Michael Jackson’s tigers; and most of the 400 animals at the Wildlife Waystation Sanctuary – including a sizeable collection of chimpanzees – were evacuated to Los Angeles Zoo.   I’m pleased to say my gibbon friends at nearby Santa Clarita were oblivious to this incident.

Now the fire is over, scientists and economists alike are poring over the barely cooled embers to assess the full impact and inform future policy.  There is still much to do, but the concensus so far seems to be that the ecosystem as far as plant-life goes will recover.   The fate of the various displaced animal species is much less certain or understood.

Besides the impact of forest fires on the immediate ecosystem and its inhabitants, incidents like this put us in mind of how deforestation of all types influences the balance of greenhouse gases and global warming.

This is a huge subject in its own right, and another complicating factor to be absorbed by those nations negotiating ahead of Copenhagen.  This 2007 article from ScienceDaily gives some indication of the scale of the impact, pointing to research showing how a single fire season in some North American States can generate CO2 equivalent to that State’s annual emissions from entire man-made sectors such as transport or energy.  And this before a consideration of the feedback effect of rising temperatures on the frequency of fires and complications associated with the impact of smoky particulates.

All in all, a fuller analysis of this aspect – on this blog at least  – is going to have wait for a future post.

Also of interest:

Sparks fly over study suggesting wild fires cut CO2 (The Guardian)

 

Zoonomian Lives!

As I haven’t posted anything for a while, this is just to say I’m still here (yes, sorry), and normal service – whatever that is – will be resumed as soon as possible.  Anyhow, photos are easy !  So here are three I took at Santa Barbara Zoo last summer, including the inspiration for Mac’s latest operating system.

Slurp
Slurp (Photo: Tim Jones at Santa Barbara Zoo)

Snow Leopard (Photo:Tim Jones at Santa Barbara Zoo)
Snow Leopard (Photo:Tim Jones at Santa Barbara Zoo)

Parrot (Photo: Tim Jones at Santa Barbara Zoo)
Parrot (Photo: Tim Jones at Santa Barbara Zoo

The Zoo is brilliant by the way.  I saw no distressed animals (they’re living in SB for crisakes!) – and I recommend it.  $5 to feed the giraffe.