CIBOLO CENTER FOR CONSERVATION
Lately, I’ve noticed more people, including myself, finding meaning and symbolism in nature by comparing our experiences to the natural world. Indeed, it can be one tool in our toolbox to cope with tragedy, grief or difficult times.
For example, light scatters through the atmosphere and is transformed. Plants take up sunlight and, through a process of chemical transformations, convert it into energy in the form of sugar.
In a similar way, the light a person gives can live on within us and is transformed into a different kind of energy, such as creativity, kindness and passion, as we navigate life’s changing seasons.
In light of the devastating flood events across Texas, New Mexico, North Carolina and beyond, I find myself fluctuating between periods of grief, scientific curiosity and advocacy.
I often think of how nature is a kaleidoscope — periodically changing, never with just one “shape” acting on its own. Just like shapes in a kaleidoscope transform into different patterns, living things and non-living processes can shapeshift, changing as the clock ticks, seasons pass and weather brews and pours into the land.
As we navigate grief and the ever-changing environment, we often find hope through new interactions with people and wildlife.
A simple walk in nature can subtly change your perspective. When walking through the nature center daily, there are always new discoveries. On the woodland trail on a random Tuesday at 3:37 p.m., you could see a red-shouldered hawk perched on a tree ready to swiftly ascend over the prairie, find a four-lined skink trapped in a spider web, or witness a juvenile summer tanager exploring its new territory.
Things in the wild have special timing, and sometimes we are lucky to witness their transformations.
If weather events can be so extreme and dangerous, then why does nature allow such things to happen? When a heavy rainstorm or hurricane comes through and knocks down an upper canopy tree, lower story trees can now seize the opportunity and grow higher and more abundant, basking in heavier sunlight.
A controlled fire in a prairie can provide rejuvenation and nourishment to wildlife and the land.
At the same time, more frequent and intense extreme events will occur, and living organisms may not quickly adapt and evolve to a changing climate.
There are many ways to slow this process, but one is to create habitat and build connections within the wildlife-urban interface. Migratory species like birds and butterflies will be thankful for extra stopping points or “flight connections” along their long journey.
At The Cibolo, ecosystems like the marsh and riparian areas serve as natural buffers and filtration systems. When large amounts of rainfall and runoff occur, water filters through the soil, contaminants attach to soil particles and plants can uptake nutrients and water necessary for growth.
I often think about community when reflecting on wildlife at The Cibolo. Each habitat brings its own unique function and importance to the landscape.
Like people, we each bring our own set of skills, experience and unique perspectives to improve our community and environment. And just like water, we need to shape this land with good intention and, in some cases, let things grow as nature intended.
Volunteer to steward the land at local parks or your own yard. Advocate for less development and more sustainable infrastructure. Help your community when in need.
Stay curious and leap into new conversations, because even when things get turned upside down, you can find beauty and solid ground in community.
“And in the wild of changing things, we learned to fly anyway.” — Morgan Harper Nichols
This article is dedicated to Ernesto Geronimo Vergara, friends and family.
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