Earth Matters

The changing face of environmental education

By Julie Johnson

This is a challenging time for the field of environmental education. It’s no longer enough for environmental centers to help people learn about the natural world and the ecological systems that support life. The potentially devastating consequences of humans’ actions on the environment make it urgent for educators to seek out new approaches. These must be aimed at helping people understand the natural and human communities in which they live, their interconnection and interdependence, and the fact that we all have the ability to make contributions to change.

Winter whaling on the Cape

By David Spector

I have enjoyed seeing whales on many whale-watch boats, but I find a special pleasure in my own sightings from land. Over years of visiting Cape Cod beaches, especially Herring Cove and Race Point, in the fall, winter and early spring, I have identified the same species that I’ve seen from boat trips in New England waters: North Atlantic right whale, humpback whale, fin whale, minke whale, Atlantic white-sided dolphin and harbor porpoise.

Trees are nature’s hydraulic wonders

By Henry Lappen

Trees have a remarkable ability to pump water very high with very little effort. Trees are amazingly complex beings and nowhere is this more evident than in their hydraulic system. Although we now understand how they do it, we humans cannot build any comparable structure.

Nature’s clock: Studying the timing, life cycles of species

As awareness of climate change has grown, phenology increasingly offers evidence of how shifts in temperature, precipitation, available sunlight and other factors are affecting a wide variety of species. These effects may influence how our crops will fare, what and how many pests we may have to contend with, what diseases we may have to be prepared for and what species we may expect to see or lose in our local ecosystems over the long term.

Wildscaping: Landscaping for wildlife

George Regmund

We are all responsible for doing our part to protect this spectacular planet, and there are many things we can do as individuals that will benefit its health. One place where we can make a difference is right in our own backyard: We can “wildscape” our property. And now, in the midst of winter, is a great time to begin planning.

Awesome auroras: Watch for them in a sky near you

By Elizabeth Farnsworth

Called the “aurora” after the Greek goddess of the dawn, and “borealis” with reference to the north, it is kicked up by the solar wind, the cascade of charged particles continually generated by our ever-burning sun. Electrons rain down on Earth, following the lines of our planet’s magnetic field and transferring their energy to oxygen and nitrogen atoms high in the atmosphere. The shifting colors of the aurora depend on which elements are being charged and the level of excitation to which they are being boosted at any given time. Hence, the aurora is a dynamic light show that dwarfs the most psychedelic of rock concerts here on earth.

The future of agriculture; we must all be ecologists

By Lawrence J. Winship

In the autumn, as our neighbors fill their grain bins with barley, and their cellars with potatoes, I am always amazed at their productivity. What a long, interesting journey we and our food plants have taken.

Moose signs in the north woods

by Ted Watt

We had been walking quietly along a leaf-strewn woods road in a large and remote forest of sugar maples and white pine. Sue indicated for us to stop as she prepared to launch her cow moose’s mating response call into the air. She held both hands around her mouth and let out a groaning squeal that startled all of us with its volume and pitch.

Watching northern harriers in flight

By Ted Watt

Every October they arrive, with the oranges and crimsons of the sugar maples beginning to fade and the low-bush blueberry leaves flushing scarlet. The greens of summer are mostly gone, replaced by the reds, purples and browns of autumn. One morning I‘ll look out and there they’ll be: one or two northern harriers, previously known as marsh hawks, hunting the blueberry fields. I’m used to seeing their flight over the winter salt marshes out on the coast at Plum Island. Seeing them here in the high Berkshires, however, often feels like a surprise, perhaps because their appearance seems so sudden and short-lived.