2022-09-01 National Geographic Interactive

e Close to Home Top 30% most important places THE NATURE EQUITY GAP
for four key conservation goals Millions face barriers to experiencing nature and all its benefits,
rt of the country falls into at least one of the especially in low-income areas and communities of color. Addressing
vation—so every community can make changes Providing clean Preserving environmental injustices is a critical part of conservation.
ter. Some of the most successful projects so drinking water ecosystem diversity
oices in decision-making and an emphasis on
Both ecosystems 3x Black, Hispanic, and Asian Americans are three times as
ge alongside nature. Several of today’s most and carbon likely as white Americans to live far from natural areas.
conservation efforts are highlighted below.

le bus lines reduce The Confederated Salish and Kootenai Saving wildlife Trapping carbon 70% The majority of low-income Americans in the contigu-
n and offer hikers Tribes in Montana are restoring white- ous United States live in nature-deprived areas.
rs access to trailheads. bark pine forests, which hold cultural Top 30 large U.S. cities most in need
significance, retain snowpack, and of more equitable access to parks 28m More than one-third of U.S. children lack public green
support scores of animal species. space within a 10-minute walk of their home.

Y Black communities in Philadelphia MAINE
K have campaigned to save urban VT.
C sanctuaries such as the John Heinz
National Wildlife Refuge, which
O protects an essential tidal marsh
and provides access to nature
R hikes and bird-watching.
M O N TA N A NORTH DAKOTA M I N N E S O TA
SOUTH DAKOTA
J Bar L MICH.
Ranch
T
A WISCONSIN M N.H.
E O
R Minneapolis U Boston
G N MASS.
NEW YORK T
A
WYOMINGOUN TA I N S MICHIGAN I R.I.
Salt Lake City M Detroit N CONN.
S Saw Mill River
I OWA Chicago Cleveland PENNSYLVANIA New York
Des Moines OHIO Philadelphia
NEBRASKA N.J.
Holterholm Farms
PLAINS INDIANA

U TA H COLORADO ILLINOIS DEL.
Denver
UN ED S T A T E S W. VA. C MD.
IT H Washington, D.C.
Bears Ears IAN
National St. Louis VIRGINIA Chesapeake Bay
MISSOURI
Monument KANSAS Louisville Chesapeake Virginia Beach

OKLAHOMA Clinch River

Irving Garland KENTUCKY headwaters Great Dismal
Arlington Dallas Swamp
TEXAS A
Cumberland Forest L Greensboro Durham
Project
A NORTH CAROLINA
NA Nashville P
tsdale TENNESSEE P Charlotte

Albuquerque Memphis A
NEW MEXICO
ARKANSAS SOUTH

Atlanta CAROLINA

MISSISSIPPI The carbon-storing Great Dismal

Swamp was a refuge for gener-

ALABAMA GEORGIA ations of Indigenous and Black
people escaping subjugation and

El Paso enslavement. Their descendants

e advocate establishing a national
h
Jacksonville heritage area for the greater region.

LOUISIANA FLORIDA

Austin Houston Couturie Forest
New Orleans

Orlando

n ProjeEctl cPoansose, rwvheiscmh oisrme ostly Latino, Memphis and 72 other cities are Hialeah
n improving equitable access to Miami
a than 2is50w,o0r0k0inagcrteoscoofnserve Castner parks in part by turning school-
yards into neighborhood parks
s, and Juneau privatReafnogresftosr, mouatndyoor recreation during nonschool hours.
with vaintadl tlionksasfteoguard the desert

publiciftoyr’sestosu. rce of drinking water.

T AREAS CALCULATED SEPARATELY FOR CONTIGUOUS U.S. AND ALASKA.
ABLE OR INCOMPLETE FOR HAWAII AND U.S. TERRITORIES.



City Park

NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA

The hundred-acre Wisner Tract, a for-
mer golf course wrecked by Hurricane
Katrina, is being returned to a more
natural state with a diverse array of
habitat: lagoon, swamp, marsh, live oak
forest, and meadowland. It’s a retreat
for birds such as egrets and geese, city
dwellers from “all walks of life,” and
“just about every breed of dog that
you could ever imagine,” Wilkes says.
Restoring degraded urban spaces and
providing equitable access to nature
are key goals in conservation’s next
phase. Two scissor-lift cranes lofted
Wilkes about 60 feet, revealing the
skyline and light-striped Superdome,
less than five miles away. To create this
image, he chose 43 out of 2,012 photos.

to set up permanent provisions that would allow Meade told me the Cumberland Forest Proj-
public access as well as restrict development ect would never make enough money to please
in the most ecologically valuable parts, and investors without selling credits on carbon mar-
then sell the land and distribute the profit to kets. Only a total of about a thousand acres a
the investors. year is logged, and much of that is in stands
where the most valuable trees already have
Using impact investors to protect ecosystems been selectively logged. “Anything marketed
is just one way people have attempted to recon- as pulpwood today is more valuable as carbon,”
cile conservation with capitalism. I am sympa- he says.
thetic to conservationists who are skeptical that
the two systems can ever really work together Doing conservation on working lands is much
and believe that the pursuit of profit will always easier when there are systems that reward con-
lead to overuse of natural resources. But if you servation behavior—whether that’s voluntary
want to do conservation everywhere, then markets or government programs. As Wenner
you have to find a way to include places where says, it has to pencil out. You have to make con-
people are using the land or sea to make money. servation pay better than destruction.

CHAPTER TWO

FARMERS TO THE BAY

Some ecosystems are threatened by what happens upstream,
so conserving them must be a watershed-wide effort.

NOWHERE IS THE NEED Limiting runoff
from farmland
for better incentives for protects habitat
conservation more evi- for aquatic life,
dent than in agriculture, such as oysters.
where environmentally
damaging practices are
still lamentably common.
There are 895 million
acres of farmland in the
United States—nearly 40
percent of the country.
Many—maybe most—
farmers already see them-
selves as stewards of the
land but too often find
their efforts thwarted.

Market pressures, perverse regulatory incen- 200-mile-long estuary. If streams are polluted,
tives, and deeply entrenched ways of doing the bay will be too. And dirty, turbid water kills
things can keep them from farming in a way that seagrass, which forms a habitat for other species,
produces food without sacrificing biodiversity. such as blue crab, striped bass, and white perch.
Even turning the entire bay into a protected area
Often the biodiversity at risk isn’t even on the could not save it from threats upstream. That’s
farms. Consider the Chesapeake Bay. Nitrogen why the Chesapeake Bay Foundation, started
and phosphorus from farms in a 64,000-square- in 1967 to “Save the Bay,” as its iconic bumper
mile watershed spanning six states flow into the

58 N AT I O N A L G E O G R A P H I C

stickers urge, has an office as far Smarter investment could
north as Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. empower farmers to be
environmental leaders. They
Wetland restoration would help
absorb these pollutants. But there
are ways to farm that reduce runoff.

Crops can be planted without tilling deserve to be well paid for
the soil. Cover crops can hold soil preserving America.
in place while fields are fallow. And
animals can be kept from overgraz-

ing and trampling stream banks.

I wanted to see a farm that’s an example of need to plow, sow, or harvest, so he rarely uses

what’s possible, and the foundation recom- his tractor. He’s also able to sell his organic,

mended I pay a visit to Ron Holter, a fifth- grass-fed milk for more because consumers will

generation Maryland dairy farmer whose pay more. But it still takes guts. Holter lost farm-

Holterholm Farms is one of many such small ing friends when he made the switch.

operations west of Baltimore. In the spring of It’s worth noting that while rotational grazing

1995, after an agricultural extension class and “a can address the impacts of cattle on watersheds,

lot of prayer,” Holter moved his cattle—which he grass-fed cows still belch methane, a powerful

had fed mostly in barns—outside. He divided the greenhouse gas. One study suggested those emis-

land, which he had plowed to grow grain to feed sions could be canceled out by carbon seques-

the cows, into 68 three-acre paddocks. The cattle tered in permanent pasture. But other researchers

are moved daily, so each paddock is grazed for maintain that the ideal future might be one where

less than a week a year. This allows the grass to humans drink less milk and eat less beef.

rest, giving the roots a chance to grow deep and In 2021, farmers, ranchers, and forest land-

strong, which prevents erosion. Cow manure is owners received more than $3.3 billion through

all the fertilizer the pasture needs. It certainly U.S. Department of Agriculture conservation

looks bucolic, with a herd of Jerseys lounging programs, covering more than 108 million acres.

in an undulating pasture of fescue, chicory, and Those are big numbers, but more can be done.

white clover. Programs that incentivize harmful practices—

In the old days after a rain, he recalls, water grants for waste lagoons at confined animal

ran through his field, red with soil. When he feeding operations, for example—could be

switched to what he calls “holistic planned graz- phased out. Smarter investment in conservation

ing,” the water turned clear. Then, as his pasture for farms and forests could truly empower farm-

grew deep, tangled roots and its microbial soil ers to be environmental leaders. These men and

community thrived, the water stopped flowing women deserve to be well paid for preserving the

altogether. His land now holds three times the places that make America beautiful.

water it once did. The Chesapeake Bay Foundation doesn’t

Holter plunges in a shovel so I can inspect the just advise and support farmers; it also tries to

soil. “Bacteria form microbial glue,” he explains inspire them by bringing them to the bay itself.

proudly, as I run my fingers through the moist, “If you don’t know it, you don’t love it,” says Matt

caramel-colored dirt, which is indeed gluey— Kowalski, a restoration scientist. “If you don’t

and fragrant. “We’ve increased soil organic mat- love it, you won’t try to protect it.”

ter to 6 percent from 3 percent,” Holter says. His And so I find myself on an aluminum work-

pasture is literally twice as alive as it used to be. boat bobbing above an oyster reef in Chesapeake

Farmers like Holter take a leap into the Bay, surrounded by half a dozen farmers wearing

unknown when they switch to grazing systems Wrangler jeans and muck boots. We’ve talked

like this, often called rotational grazing. The about inputs to the bay from farms. And now

Chesapeake Bay Foundation tries to make it eas- we’re talking about cleaning the water on the

ier, providing funding, advice, and connections other end. Chris Moore, an ecosystem scientist

to programs that defray some costs. Holter has with the foundation, is explaining why he and

applied for federal funds to upgrade his system his colleagues have been supporting oyster res-

for bringing water to his small pastures. He no toration. Turns out the scrumptious shellfish

longer buys seed corn or fertilizer. He doesn’t are also fantastic filters, each cleaning as much

A M E R I C A I N A N E W L I G H T 59

as 50 gallons of water a day. “Oysters work bet- crabs, the little baby crabs, over with the oysters
ter than an aquarium filter from PetSmart,” he is a really positive sign.”
says. There used to be so many oysters in the
bay that they could filter the entire volume in a The Chesapeake Oyster Alliance, a group
week, consuming nitrogen and phosphorus from of nonprofits, community organizations, and
runoff and ejecting the excess as pellets that set- oyster growers and harvesters, is promoting
tle to the bottom. But in the 1980s, disease and aquaculture in floating boxes and seeding baby
continuous trawling destroyed reefs up to 15 feet oysters on artificial reefs of discarded shells or
high constructed over thousands of years. concrete. The goal is 10 billion oysters. These
reefs can also protect coastal communities from
Moore and the other foundation staff pull up more intense storm surges. It’s climate change
a handful of clustered oysters. The farmers gin- adaptation you can eat with a squeeze of lemon.
gerly handle the wet, spiky agglomerations. One
empty shell has a vivid red beard sponge grow- Together, Moore explains, farmers and oyster
ing on it. Another shell has a mud crab tucked growers can, in fact, “Save the Bay.” Someone
inside, which decides to pinch me. “When I see shucks a four-inch oyster to show the group.
the worms coming up from the soil, I know that Demonstration over, the oyster is up for grabs.
I’ve got good soil,” says Jenni Hoover, a farmer No one volunteers, so I seize the opportunity and
from Mount Airy, Maryland. “And so seeing the gleefully eat it myself. I jot down a few tasting
notes: “marine, mossy, terrestrial, rich soil.”

CHAPTER THREE

A CREEK IN YONKERS

City nature is both an amenity for urbanites
and valuable habitat for some species.

EVEN MORE THAN FARMS, A great
blue heron
cities may seem like the catches an
opposite of “nature.”
They are places for eel near a
people—lots of people. fish ladder
If you want big protected
areas, then encouraging that eels
people to live in dense use to swim
cities makes sense. We
can cluster like oysters, upstream.
sparing land for other
species. And we can
live more lightly, using
public transit and heating
and cooling apartments
instead of houses.

But pushing urban density to the limit would The late naturalist E.O. Wilson suggested that the
squeeze out parks, gardens, and other green effect, which he called “biophilia,” was biological.
spaces—places that clean the air, shade and cool, We evolved with plants and other animals, and
and encourage us to exercise. Research indicates we need them to feel psychologically whole.
the presence of other species makes us happy.
I’ve been nurtured by city parks my whole

60 N AT I O N A L G E O G R A P H I C

life; they are where I learned to Peregrine falcons, endangered
value other species, starting with until they were saved
crows and cedars. My friend Roy
Tsao, who teaches political theory by breeding and reintroduction,
and philosophy at Pratt Institute

in Brooklyn, says taking up birding actually thrive better in cities
later in life has made him a happier than in the countryside.
man. “It has completely changed
the way I feel about living in New

York City,” he says. “It makes you

aware of the seasons. In late March there are I take a train from Manhattan to Yonkers to

woodcocks in Midtown.” see it. The creek turns out to be visible from

Urban green space—from rooftop gardens the platform. Just outside the station, I am met

to pocket parks to the linear forests of street by Brigitte Griswold and Candida Rodriguez of

trees—isn’t just about making us feel good, Groundwork Hudson Valley, one of the many

though. Real conservation can occur in these organizations that helped unbury the creek.

spaces—especially for birds, plants, insects, We cross the street and take in the satisfying

and other small wildlife. A naturalist studying sight—and sound—of a burbling river in the cen-

the Gottlieb Native Garden, a single acre in Bev- ter of downtown. We see a fish ladder, installed

erly Hills, California, documented over 1,400 for the sea-born eel babies—called “glass eels”

species in the past five years, from cougars because they are completely transparent—to

and ospreys to varieties of bark lice previously climb upstream to grow big.

unknown to science. This project, initiated by community lead-

Greenways and urban streams can be corri- ers more than 20 years ago, is a hard-won and

dors through the concrete for plants and wildlife. expensive reality, involving the state, the city of

Sometimes cities can even be refuges. New York Yonkers, Groundwork, Scenic Hudson, and the

City’s Central Park is famous among birders U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. That first 800 feet

because it’s a haven for birds migrating up and cost $24 million. But Yonkers mayor Mike Spano

down the East Coast. Grassland birds such as says the project has been “a major catalyst for the

dickcissels and Savannah sparrows are more renaissance of downtown Yonkers and the city

likely to see their eggs hatch and chicks fledge as a whole,” adding that it inspired more than

in urban areas around Chicago than in rural Illi- four billion dollars in redevelopment, includ-

nois. Peregrine falcons, endangered in North ing 3,000 apartments. “Green gentrification”

America until they were saved by breeding and can be an ironic consequence of urban conser-

reintroduction, actually thrive better in cities vation, but Yonkers has required some units to

than in the countryside, because there are so be low-income housing.

many pigeons and other birds for them to eat. After native plants were installed along the

Nothing illustrates the promise of urban con- new channel, wildlife appeared as if by magic.

servation more poetically than “daylighting” a Muskrat, herons, turtles, and ducks are spotted

creek. It’s easy to forget that all cities were built here regularly. Another section hosts a hydro-

on ecosystems, and many had rivers and creeks electric wheel that powers nearby streetlights.

running through them. As cities grew, these In a streamside park, two men are whiling away

waterways were typically confined to pipes or the afternoon. “I like the water. I like the ducks,”

culverts. In Yonkers, an unofficial “sixth bor- one tells us, appreciatively.

ough” just north of New York City, Saw Mill Griswold once worked on more traditional

River, which once powered mills to cut timber conservation projects, but she wanted to do

and grind grain into flour, gradually turned something that connected people to the non-

into a polluted mess. In the 1920s the last 2,000 human world—in part so they would come to

feet was covered with a parking lot. But since care for it enough to fight for it. That meant

2012, 800 feet of that section has run through doing it in the city. Not everyone can afford to

a landscaped channel, sparkling in the sun in a visit flagship national parks, she says.

new 2.2-acre park. More recently, other sections, Rodriguez shows me areas on a Yonkers map

deeper downtown, have been uncovered. that were redlined—set aside for nonwhite

A M E R I C A I N A N E W L I G H T 61

residents, spurned by lenders. They have fewer Rodriguez says the daylighted creek offers
trees and more concrete. Access to nature is not a place for people to unwind, creates a buzzy
evenly distributed. location for businesses, and protects threatened
species like eels. “A triple win,” she calls it. Gris-
Fixing that injustice may be the best way to wold sums it up: “There’s a beautiful thing in
create a generation that cares enough about downtown Yonkers, and it belongs to all of us.”
other species to save them.

EPILOGUE

GROWING RELATIONSHIPS

Instead of walling ourselves out, we need to
learn to live well with other species.

BACK HOME IN THE A c’waam, a type
of sucker, swirls
Klamath Basin, I think around three
about water—how juvenile fish.
it is both beautiful
and essential to life.
Much of our area is
in what the National
Weather Service terms
an “extreme drought.”
The Lower Klamath
National Wildlife
Refuge is normally a
stopover for half of
the Pacific flyway’s
migrating waterfowl.

It relies on water managed by the U.S. Bureau of when winter food stocks ran low. Every spring,
Reclamation and gets whatever’s left after farm- the fish are honored and blessed by tribal elders
ers take their share. These days, there’s nothing in a ceremony. They are a deeply significant cul-
left. The refuge turns to dust. Irrigation also draws tural food, but because of their decline, tribal
down water from Upper Klamath Lake, which can members haven’t harvested them since 1986.
limit access to areas where suckers spawn.
“I am really concerned about losing our
One solution would be to use less water for koptu,” Gentry says, citing the more gravely
farming. That’s anathema to many farmers, but endangered species. “When I go along the lake,
it may be necessary to support bird migration, and I look at the mountains with their snow, I
save the suckers, and send enough clear, cold just think about how beautiful our homeland is,”
water down the Klamath River to keep endan- he says, but his thoughts always turn to the fish.
gered Chinook and coho salmon alive. “It doesn’t take long to go there. I can’t wake up
in the morning and not think about this.”
Don Gentry, until recently the Klamath Tribal
Council chairman, is very worried about the The tribe is working to recover the suckers,
c’waam and the koptu, as the suckers are called running a hatchery to preserve the genetic
in the Klamath language. Before colonization, diversity of the species and researching the
these fish were crucial for the tribe’s survival conditions they need to thrive. This spring,

62 N AT I O N A L G E O G R A P H I C

the tribe sued the federal govern- Conservation needs to be
ment for sending water to farmers about protecting other species
at a time when lake levels were
lower than the minimums called with people. It’s about
for in the government’s own report

on the species’ needs. Gentry improving our relationships
believes that the basin has “a cer- with the nonhuman world.
tain resilience and productivity,”
which should allow it to support

agriculture as well as waterfowl and

suckers. But he says sharing the water, espe- hatchery. It’s time to put this human-made wet-

cially as climate change worsens and leads to land to work as a nursery for endangered fish.

longer droughts, will require cooperation. That Wenner, as is his nature, is in an ebullient

isn’t happening yet—in part because of ideolog- mood. Despite the drought and tensions over

ical divisions rooted in colonialism. scarce water, he’s optimistic about the future.

The model of conservation centered on parks He’s seen how fast wetland species returned to

and other strictly protected areas is sometimes his farm when he invited them back. “Immedi-

called fortress conservation, and it too can be ately, this fall, we had 10,000 ducks and geese

traced to colonialism. It has been increasingly on these 70 acres.” With more cash and help for

criticized for setting as its goal a wilderness landowners to navigate the red tape, he thinks

devoid of humans, a fantasy that never really the Klamath Basin could be a case study for

existed. In what is now the United States, humans landscape-scale conservation. The question, he

were already present as the glaciers from the last says, is “whether we can look at the big picture

ice age were retreating, meaning that our ecosys- and get everyone pulling in the same direction.

tems all developed with humans in them. It is not happening yet.” But, he adds, “if we can

Many grasslands, wetlands, and forests were do it here, we can do it anywhere.”

shaped for millennia by people through peri- Tree swallows catch midges above our heads,

odic burning. And many species were carefully and blackbirds call over the white noise of traffic

tended, including oaks in California; clams in the on the nearby highway. A U.S. Fish and Wildlife

Northwest; Four Corners potato, goosefoot, wolf- biologist opens a valve on the tank, and a cascade

berry, and sumac in the Southwest; and chestnuts of water and fish rushes into a waiting net. Baby

in the East. The Klamath people managed 10,000 suckers are about four inches long, dark olive on

acres of a wetland lily called wocus, whose seeds their backs, silver on their bellies. Wenner car-

produce excellent flour. Today wocus is hard to ries the first net to his marsh. The moment the

find around Upper Klamath Lake. Sometimes, little fish hit the water, they disappear, perfectly

removing people hurts other species. camouflaged. In a few weeks, another batch will

Reviving Indigenous management tech- arrive, this one from the tribal hatchery. Wenner

niques—such as prescribed fire, clam gardens, is a barley farmer and a fish farmer now. “How do

and traditional fishing practices—is all the rage you feel, Karl?” I shout out, like a sports reporter

in conservation. Like conservation in timber- interviewing a winning quarterback. “I feel good!”

lands, farms, and cities, tribal management is He shouts back. “I feel good.”

about simultaneously meeting the needs of peo- As the scientists work, one fish sloshes out

ple and of other species. It’s about flourishing of the net, landing in the muddy road. Without

together. Conservationists are realizing their thinking, I reach down and pick it up. Feeling its

work isn’t about protecting other species from muscular body wriggle in my hands, I run to the

people—although limiting access or harvests water and let it go. It flashes silver, rights itself,

can at times be necessary. Instead, conservation and swims off into the future. j

needs to be about protecting other species with

people. It is about improving our relationships Emma Marris is the author of Wild Souls: Free-
with the nonhuman world, not severing them. dom and Flourishing in the Non-Human World.
Stephen Wilkes has been pursuing his epic Day to
On a cold spring afternoon, a truck hauling a Night project since 2009. As a kid, Denise Nestor
600-gallon tank arrives at Wenner’s farm. Inside learned to draw by sketching animals and people
are 1,712 baby c’waam and koptu from a federal that she found in National Geographic.

A M E R I C A I N A N E W L I G H T 63



KEEPERS OF COMMUNITY

THEY STEP UP,
AND MAKE
US BETTER

What makes a community in
a divided nation where many
people are suffering? Across the
U.S., it’s altruists and volunteers
dedicated to helping others.

BY REBECCA LEE SANCHEZ

PHOTOGRAPHS BY
ANDREA BRUCE

Members of the Black-
feet Nation’s Tatsey
family watch for grizzly
bears from a safe
distance at Badger-
Two Medicine—130,000
acres of sacred, for-
ested terrain for the
Blackfeet in Montana.
The tribe has been
involved in a decades-
long battle against
oil and gas develop-
ment on this land.

65

T H E Y A R E T H E G LU E that holds com-
munities together, stepping up to
assist their neighbors in times of
crisis, need, and other challenges.

Some are volunteers whose projects

uplift their neighborhoods; others work to pre-

serve their community’s culture. Still others are

Good Samaritans who help older residents get

basic necessities, or assist those displaced by

disaster. And on and on.

Throughout U.S. history, such altruists have

stitched a sense of unity among their neighbors.

Nearly 190 years ago, in his book Democracy in

America, the French political philosopher Alexis

de Tocqueville was impressed by how much

of life in the young nation revolved around

community-based leaders and groups. He saw

them as local democracies that set social mores

and helped ward off tyranny.

During the past five years, National Geo-

graphic journalists traveled across the United

States to see how the ideas Tocqueville described

are holding up in a country that can seem inex-

orably divided by race, income, politics, and

religion. They visited health workers, farmers,

coal miners, students, and many more to iden-

tify a sampling of those who are sewing the

threads of community in today’s America.

What the journalists found most pressing was

not division shaped by politics or other beliefs,

but rather a deep need that unites people. Carmona Cruz Mon-
serrate gets a house
Whether it was because of a lack of healthy food visit from Sonia Ven-
tura, who founded an
in Detroit or the 2018 fires that ravaged the West organization to help
residents on the island
Coast, many stressed communities are barely of Vieques, Puerto
Rico. Ventura, shown
holding things together. But they’re resilient, in May 2021, died
recently at the age
thanks partly to residents who dedicate much of of 79, but her group’s
work continues.
their lives to helping their neighbors. Here are a

few of those keepers of community; read about

more at natgeo.com. —T H E E D I T O R S

ADDITIONAL FUNDING FOR PHOTOGRAPHY IN THIS PROJECT WAS PROVIDED BY CATCHLIGHT.

The National
Geographic Society,
committed to illuminat-
ing and protecting the
wonder of our world,
has funded Explorer
Andrea Bruce’s work
chronicling democracy
in America since 2018.

ILLUSTRATION BY JOE MCKENDRY

K E E P E R S O F C O M M U N I T Y 67

CHAPTER I: THE GARDENER

HE PLANTED SOME
CROPS, AND GREW
SO MUCH MORE

Mark Covington
returned to his child-
hood street in Detroit
in 2008 to find aban-
doned lots littered
with illegally dumped
trash. Rather than just
clean up the garbage,
he planted a garden,
which has grown to a
sprawling community
collective that helps
feed residents and
enrich their lives.

CHAPTER I: THE GARDENER

MICH.

MICHIGAN MICHIGAN
UNITED STATES
Lansing
Detroit

CHRISTINA SHINTANI, NGM STAFF

I F MARK COVINGTON HAD A LOOKOUT Jamesha Irving
point to see the duality of life in his gathers vegetables
Detroit neighborhood, the corner of at Covington’s urban
Georgia Street and Vinton Avenue would garden at the Georgia
be it. Street Community
At first you might notice what’s officially Collective in Detroit
called blight—the decaying, boarded-up homes with her fiancé, William
and the eeriness of dereliction. But stand a min- Knight, and daughter,
ute longer on the corner, and in the quiet of the Alijah Davis.
morning you might hear the grunt of a pig, then
two or three. Suddenly, there’s a ruckus. The “getting in where you fit in.”
pigs—five American guinea hogs, to be exact— Covington’s odyssey began after he lost his job
have gotten out again.
The gate to the Georgia Street Community Col- at a hazardous-waste facility in Sterling Heights,
lective has been left ajar, and the pigs are on the Michigan, in 2007. Within a couple of months he
loose outside their pen. Covington, founder of had returned to his childhood street. Walking
the collective and its urban farm, isn’t far behind. to a store one day, he saw garbage piled high in
It’s a typical morning scene at the collec- vacant, abandoned lots.
tive. Early in the day, the vibrant green crops
giving life to tomatoes, cabbages, eggplants, “It was dirty,” he says. “There were always
legumes, and more are awash with gold, as if vacant lots, but they had always been main-
being watered by the sun. The sounds of dogs tained for children to play on. I knew that if I just
and goats, pigs, roosters, and a colony of stir- cleaned them up, people would dump on them
ring bees drown out the sounds of the city. All at again, but if I planted stuff, they might not.”
once the neighborhood blight, though still just
across the street, feels at a distance. Covington started with a small community
In a place where many homes and shops are garden, and almost immediately neighbors
shuttered or burned out, Covington reflects began asking to participate. One mother sent
what Tocqueville called the “spirit of provin- three children to help him build a larger garden
cial liberty”—community participation in
self-governing—amid what Covington calls
“systemic demise.”
“The city has a history of neglecting us,” Cov-
ington says. He’s focused on bringing back the
lively neighborhood where he grew up—even
as years of neglect have led some longtime
residents to flee. To him, community is about

70 N A T I O N A L G E O G R A P H I C

where the kids could grow food, stay busy during accumulation. They now make up a small col-
the summer, and add structure to their lives. lection that helps educate visitors.
When older residents dropped by to recount
their difficulty paying for medicine and food, What began as an effort to remove trash and
Covington made the garden a little bigger so deter littering has turned the intersection of
they could pick what they needed. To his sur- Georgia and Vinton into a site of communion. On
prise, the community began to grow around the one corner: a public garden with vegetable and
growth of his garden. flower beds, a movie screen, and picnic tables.
On another: the fruit orchard and pollinator gar-
Little by little the seeds, now literal and fig- den. On another: a farm and a community center
urative, took root, as the hands on the garden in a building that was established with the help
that would evolve into a farm multiplied. The of a benefactor and granted to the collective by a
collective now owns 15 lots, purchased from probate court judge. Nearby are garlic beds and
the city with donations and grants. How the a greenhouse, funded by a grant.
animals—goats, pigs, ducks, chickens, tur-
keys, honeybees, two dogs, and a cat—came “It’s somewhat spiritual for me,” Covington
to live at the farm is a story of serendipitous says. “It’s like a sanctuary. People come here and
don’t want to leave.”

K E E P E R S O F C O M M U N I T Y 71

The Tatseys hold a
birthday party for
a family member and
invite other children
from the Blackfeet
Indian Reservation in
Browning, Montana.
They have made it
their mission to help
Blackfeet children
learn and connect with
their tribal ancestry.

CHAPTER II: THE GUARDIANS

ON A MISSION
TO SAVE NATIVE
LAND AND CULTURE



CHAPTER II: THE GUARDIANS

GLACIER N.P.
Blackfeet Indian Reservation

Badger-Two Medicine area

M O N TA N A
Helena

MONTANA
UNITED STATES

T R AV E L I N G TO T H E S AC R E D L A N D S of
Badger-Two Medicine, Montana,
is a journey of two parts. The first
starts on a solitary road that runs to

a horizon split into green and blue,

cutting across broad plains and big sky. On the

left is Heart Butte mountain, where fire-charred

vegetation rests on land that once hoisted emer-

ald pines toward the heavens. Farther along, the

road cuts between the Twin Lakes and becomes John Murray, a
historic preservation
only tire tracks in the dirt. It’s not long before officer for the Blackfeet
Nation, says that young
you leave the car and mount a horse for a short people in Browning—
headquarters of
ride up one last jagged, rocky incline to a plateau the Blackfeet Indian
Reservation—are at
overlooking a gigantic expanse of nature. risk of losing their con-
nection to their roots.
On this day, our path farther into Badger-Two
and gas drilling is one of two main causes that
Medicine—130,000 acres of sacred, forested ter- are the focus of tribal leaders and at the center of
Blackfeet life. The Blackfeet have fought energy-
rain for the Blackfeet Nation—is temporarily related development in the region bordering the
approximately 1.5-million-acre reservation and
blocked by three grizzlies. Glacier National Park. It’s a battle that reflects
many of the conflicts that date to the beginning
This is land where, in the 1980s, the U.S. gov- of the United States’ expansion across the conti-
nent: the U.S. government’s treatment of Native
ernment granted 47 leases to pave the way for oil Americans, its imposition of reservations, and
its acquisition of Native lands.
and gas drilling, a move vigorously opposed by
The other cause for Blackfeet leaders is
the Blackfeet. The land’s beauty is undeniable: teaching traditions to a generation that many
elders say is plagued by problems they link to
Blackfeet leaders say that six years ago, when the influences of Western culture.

17 oil leases remained, Devon Energy agreed to “Sacred areas are tied to places that connect

return the 15 it held after company represen-

tatives visited tribal elders and recognized the

land’s magnificence. (At the time, Sioux protests

over a proposed pipeline in North Dakota also

had drawn unfavorable attention to those seek-

ing to drill on Indigenous peoples’ land.)

Leases that belonged to Louisiana-based

Solenex LLC were canceled by the Obama

administration in 2016, a decision upheld in

court in 2020. The Blackfeet, alongside activ-

ists and environmental groups, continue to fight

appeals by Solenex.

The effort to protect the land and prevent oil

74 N A T I O N A L G E O G R A P H I C

our people, families, and individuals to origin paying Native Americans a fraction of their
stories, spiritual experiences, and resources land’s worth and removing them from it would
needed for our ways and survival,” Terry Tatsey, be more convenient and “agreeable to the forms
whose family has worked to protect the land of justice, as well as more merciful, than to assert
and educate children on Blackfeet history, said the possession of them by the sword.”
in an email. It’s important to connect young
Blackfeet to “the practices, values, protection, The Blackfeet are still fighting the effects of
and stories of our relationship to all things.” this strategy, and the role Badger-Two Medi-
cine has played in keeping culture and spirit
During his travels across the United States in alive here is impossible to replicate, archaeolo-
the early 19th century, Tocqueville noted Con- gist Maria Nieves Zedeño says. It’s a place, she
gress’s actions to claim Native lands, quoting says, where the Blackfeet historically could “be
from legislative documents that described the free”—and perform ceremonies such as Sun
government’s strategy to pay tribes for their land Dances outside the purview of missionaries and
based on what it would be worth after the game government agents, without persecution.
on it “is fled or destroyed.”
Like Tatsey, John Murray, a historic preser-
The documents state that to the government, vation officer for the Blackfeet, fears the tribe

K E E P E R S O F C O M M U N I T Y 75

CHAPTER II: THE GUARDIANS

is at risk of forgetting its traditions. Young
people living in downtown Browning, Mon-
tana—headquarters for the Blackfeet Indian
Reservation—face the challenges of poverty,
drug addiction, and suicide.

Those problems have plagued a community
where, in the words of the late chief Earl Old Per-
son, some “strive to come back from Western
influence,” while others try to embrace it.

In an effort to link younger generations with
their roots, Blackfeet leaders take children on
field trips throughout the sacred land to teach
them about the ancestors who lived there and
the value in keeping it free of development. The
plants, the wildlife, and the soil all have ties to
the tribe’s cultural traditions.

Zedeño, who has worked alongside Mur-
ray for years, leads an archaeological dig that
focuses on land where Blackfeet ancestors
practiced a now extinct way of life. Its find-
ings provided an extensive record of Blackfeet
existence on the land for the lawsuits that kept
Murray entangled in the decades-long battle
against drilling leases.

“It’s been a long road—35 years or so—but
there are no wells up there,” Murray says. “There
will never be drilling in Badger-Two Medicine.”

The story of the Blackfeet and Badger-Two
Medicine is about protecting one of America’s
Native lands—a place at the genesis of Indige-
nous history and creation stories, the foundation
of every value in Blackfeet culture and commu-
nity: family, education, identity, survival.

The Blackfeet see the land as their keeper.
It’s where they learned about buffalo running
and pack building from the wolves and got their
songs from the birds. The Blackfeet way of life is
imbued with the spirit of the land. One without
the other means both cease to exist in the same
way. Leaders are passing on those lessons, with
increasing urgency, to Blackfeet in Browning.
Each July, the nation’s traditions are honored
at the North American Indian Days celebration.

The annual parade “brings our traditions back
to people living in the downtown,” says Darrell
DeRoche, a Blackfeet youth mentor. “There
are some people here who have never been to
Badger-Two. We are doing our best to change
that, bring our traditions here, and bring people
to the land. To keep our history strong.”

76 N A T I O N A L G E O G R A P H I C

Darrell DeRoche,
wearing traditional
regalia, and other
Blackfeet take part
in an annual summer
parade in Browning
for North American
Indian Days. Ancestral
traditions include
passing on a way of life
that revolves around
what Blackfeet call
the spirit of the land.

K E E P E R S O F C O M M U N I T Y 77

Valerie Murufas sits
on a tree stump next
to where her house
once stood in Paradise,
California. She’s
rebuilding her home,
one of the nearly
14,000 burned down
in the 2018 Camp
fire—the most destruc-
tive wildfire in the
state’s modern history.

CHAPTER III: THE caregivers

A HEALING TOUCH
FOR THOSE WHO
LOST EVERYTHING



CHAPTER III: THE CAREGIVERS

Paradise CALIFORNIA
UNITED STATES
Sacramento

CALIFORNIA

F O R R E S I D E N T S H E R E , November 8,
2018, was life changing.

The Camp fire, the deadliest
firestorm in California’s modern his-

tory—and one of the most devastating

in the United States in a hundred years—had

scorched the town of Paradise in the Sierra

Nevada foothills. Eighty-five people were killed

in Butte County, about 50,000 displaced. Roughly Elisabeth Gundersen,
a nurse practitioner,
19,000 structures—including 14,000 homes— bandages the leg
of Chip Bantewski,
were destroyed. who suffers from
diabetes-related sores.
Federally funded aid and nonprofit human- Bantewski, like some
50,000 other people,
itarian organizations came and went. In some was displaced by the
2018 fire. Gundersen
ways it was just as well, because there seems helped set up medical
care for those in need.
to be a consensus in Paradise that long-term
Denise joined from neighboring Magalia, and
assistance came with too many restrictions. So they held their first mobile clinic in March 2019.
The clinic essentially is made up of tables and
residents largely declined it. chairs set up sometimes in a building, other times
in tents. It relies on donations to provide free care.
Birgitte Randall, a nurse, says many who
“We used our community to get what we
remain in the town are living without a safety needed,” Elisabeth says. “We would get what
we needed without the rules.”
net. And everyone was affected, so residents
Drawing from a network of volunteers, they
couldn’t lean on neighbors who’d likely lost their do things made difficult by the lack of resources:
refill prescriptions, order lab tests, replace docu-
homes and jobs themselves. ments lost in the fire, and check vital signs. They
host quarterly clinics, give vaccines, provide men-
Feather River Hospital was the biggest tal health counseling, and offer general wellness
screenings. When the pandemic hit, they set up
employer in town and was closed for a while a 24-hour phone line to ensure that patients with

after the fire. It’s where Randall and her mother,

Denise Gundersen, also a nurse, had worked. “We

gave good care at that hospital,” Randall says.

Randall and her sister, Elisabeth Gundersen,

a nurse practitioner, realized there were several

gaping holes in aid. Among them: medical care

and housing, which were long-standing prob-

lems in the county, one of California’s poorest.

Together, the sisters and their mother helped

create what became Medspire Health. It started

as triage. They also put out calls on social media

for help. Elisabeth returned to Paradise from

San Francisco, where she had lived and worked,

80 N AT I O N A L G E O G R A P H I C

chronic conditions, or who were afraid to leave diabetes-related sores on his legs.
their homes, could get care. They make house Bantewski describes his sores as phantoms
calls or arrange for doctors to do so. The Med-
spire team also works telehealth lines and treats he can feel but not see. Elisabeth and Denise,
patients living in tent cities. meanwhile, teach his companion the wrapping
technique so she can dress his legs at home.
“When you’re poor and you need services, Almost four years after the fire, Bantewski is liv-
the system really beats you down. That can be ing in a tent trailer. The Medspire team is trying
degrading,” Elisabeth says. Some patients “feel to find him a proper trailer before winter.
worthless, and their health is de-prioritized
because of that, so we try to do concierge Medi- “We don’t care about who you are, if you have
care for poor people.” insurance, if you’re rich or poor,” Elisabeth says.
“You need health care; we know how to do it.
Chip Bantewski, who was one of Denise’s Let’s just do it.” j
patients at the hospital, was discharged the
day before the fire. Today he relies on Medspire This is multimedia journalist Rebecca Lee Sanchez’s
for medical care. Elisabeth and Denise meet first story for National Geographic. Andrea Bruce
him with supplies in hand before dressing the photographed a story about women in politics
around the world for the June 2020 issue.

K E E P E R S O F C O M M U N I T Y 81

BY FERRIS JABR
IMAGES BY OLIVER MECKES
A N D NICOLE OTTAWA

Out

of

Sight

The newfound species
seen here is one of
about 1,300 known

types of tardigrades. It
was discovered in moss
growing on dead tree

trunks in Germany’s
Black Forest. Far too
small to see with the
unaided eye, this crea-
ture is among billions

of life-forms on the
forest floor that are
essential to the health

of the planet.

Magnified 24,000 times

At the microscopic level, soil from
Germany’s Black Forest is a fantastical

realm—one that’s mirrored in
wooded ecosystems worldwide.

83

A single gram of
forest soil can

contain as many as
a billion bacteria,

up to a million
fungi, hundreds
of thousands of
protozoans, and
nearly a thousand

roundworms.

Fungi like this
Resinicium bicolor are
among the first deni-
zens of the forest soil
to start breaking down

dead trees because
they can digest lignin,
the complex compound
that helps form woody

cell walls in plants.
There would be no soil

without microscopic
fungi, mites, worms,
and other minuscule life
decomposing organic

material this way.

7,000 X





Scales of silica cover
the single-celled body

of a testate amoeba.
These types of amoe-

bas are named for
the hard shells they
create, possibly for pro-
tection against envi-
ronmental changes
within the forest litter.

14,000 X

SCOOP A
HANDFUL
OF SOIL
FROM
THE BLACK
FOREST

IN GERMANY,
OR THE TONGASS
IN ALASKA,

OR THE WAIPOUA
IN NEW ZEALAND.

LIFT IT CLOSE TO YOUR EYES.

What do you see?

D I RT, O F C O U R S E — S O F T, R I C H , and dark as cocoa.
Pine needles and decaying leaves. Flecks of moss
or lichen. The pale concertina of an inverted
mushroom cap. An earthworm wriggling away
from the light, perhaps, or an ant perplexed by
the sudden change in altitude.

Sue Grayston knows there is so much more.

88 N AT I O N A L G E O G R A P H I C

Black Forest ranger
Charly Ebel (at right)
helps photographer
Oliver Meckes (mid-

dle) and biologist
Nicole Ottawa collect
samples of earth where

the forest has been
untouched by logging

for more than a hun-
dred years. Meckes

and Ottawa’s work is
revealing the spectacu-
lar diversity of life that

thrives belowground
and sustains the

ecosystem above.

ESTHER HORVATH

Grayston’s lifelong devotion to soil began In college, where Grayston had access to
in her backyard. As a young girl in Stockton- microscopes, she became fascinated by soil’s
on-Tees, England, she helped her mother sow constellations of creatures too small to study
seeds and tend to the apple trees, roses, and with the naked eye. She knew she had found her
rhubarbs in their garden. Grayston loved the calling. After earning a Ph.D. in microbial ecology
author Beatrix Potter—not only for her chil- from the University of Sheffield, in 1987, Grayston
dren’s books about mischievous rabbits but worked for an agricultural biotechnology com-
also for her scientific illustrations of fungi and pany in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, followed by
the many fabulous forms they thrust through a research position with the Macaulay Land
the earth. Use Research Institute (now the James Hutton

O U T O F S I G H T 89



HOW WE MADE
THESE IMAGES

The pictures in this
article were taken
with a scanning
electron microscope,
which uses electrons
instead of light to
capture fine details.
SEMs produce
grayscale images,
so these have been
colorized to showcase
different life-forms.

A single piece of woody
debris can be a bustling
hub for forest microbes.
Here, a bristle worm
(at left) and two types
of mites meet in the
uppermost layer of
soil in the Black Forest.
Mites are particularly
important to forest
ecosystems, breaking
down a cornucopia of
dead and living matter
and cycling nutrients
back into the earth.

110 X

Institute) in Scotland. There she began collabo- typical lifetime of about one and a half years.
rating with plant ecologists, sowing the seeds for Other creatures are so tiny that they can move
an undertaking that would engross her for much
of her career: the complex connections between only by squirming or paddling through the thin
soil’s smallest and largest inhabitants, microbes films of water that surround plants and particles
and trees. of soil. Those bizarre beings include transpar-
ent, noodle-shaped roundworms; rotifers with
By combining innovative field studies with whirling crowns of hairlike fibers that pull food
sophisticated techniques in genetic sequenc- into their vaselike bodies; and tardigrades,
ing, Grayston and other ecologists have created a which resemble eight-legged gummy bears with
much richer portrait of a secret society hidden in claws and spiky suction tubes for mouths.
the forest floor—a largely invisible community
without which that ecosystem would collapse. Even tinier are the protozoans: a diverse group
of single-celled organisms that sometimes move
“A great deal of biodiversity is belowground, by fluttering their numerous appendages or by
but historically, we have not known much contorting their gelatinous interiors. The forest
about it,” Grayston says. “That’s really started floor also teems with all manner of bacteria and
to change in the past couple decades.” archaea, which are superficially similar to bacte-
ria but make up their own kingdom of life.
F A R B E LOW T H E L E A F Y C A N O P I E S of many
forests, webs of filamentous fungi link A single gram of forest soil can contain as
roots into mycorrhizal networks through many as a billion bacteria, up to a million
fungi, hundreds of thousands of protozoans,
which trees exchange water, food, and and nearly a thousand roundworms.

information. Single-celled amoebas fuse into Soil is not, as was once believed, an inert sub-
stance in which trees and other plants conve-
shape-shifting blobs called slime molds, which niently anchor themselves to extract whatever
they need. It’s increasingly clear that soil is a
ooze within or along the earth, hunting bacteria dynamic network of habitats and organisms—an
immense, ever changing tapestry woven with the
and fungi. Tiny arthropods known as springtails threads of innumerable species. Soil is itself alive.

scurry around, occasionally catapulting them- Grayston and other ecologists now argue
that this modern understanding requires
selves more than 20 times their own body length substantial changes to forestry. The common
practice of clear-cutting does far more wide-
in a fraction of a second. Oribatid mites, each spread and long-lasting damage than ever
imagined, they’ve discovered. It’s not enough to
about one-tenth the size of a lentil, lumber along consider how felling trees alters the forest from
the trunk up. To be truly sustainable, forestry
what to them are mountains and canyons, walk- also needs to reckon with the consequences for
all that lies beneath.
ing only half the length of a bowling lane in a

GERMANY
EUROPE

Berlin B I L L I O N S O F Y E A R S AG O, Earth had
no soil—only a rocky crust that rain,
BLACK FOREST wind, and ice gradually wore down. As
Tuttlingen
microbes, fungi, lichen, and plants pop-

ulated the land, they greatly accelerated the ero-

sion of rock by burrowing into it, dissolving it with

secreted acids, and breaking it apart with roots.

At the same time, decomposing life enriched

the mineral crust with organic matter. Recogniz-

able forest soils first appear in the fossil record

during the Devonian period, between 420 and

360 million years ago.

Today life continues to maintain Earth’s soils

in all terrestrial ecosystems. The forest floor is

92 N AT I O N A L G E O G R A P H I C ROSEMARY WARDLEY, NGM STAFF. SOURCE: GREEN MARBLE

full of essential nutrients, such as carbon, nitro- Recognizable forest
gen, phosphorus, and potassium. Without the soils first appear
daily activities of tiny creatures, Grayston and
her colleagues point out, many of these ele- in the fossil record
ments would remain locked in place or other- during the Devonian
wise be inaccessible.
period, between
As plants photosynthesize, converting the 420 and 360
sun’s energy into carbon-rich molecules, they
exude a portion of these compounds through million years ago.
their roots into the dirt, where microbes and
fungi consume them. In exchange, mycorrhi- scientists have learned much more about the
zal fungi and certain rootbound microbes help interdependence of plants and soil microbes and
them absorb water and nutrients and convert the importance of these relationships for forest
chemically recalcitrant forms of nitrogen into ecosystems as a whole.
molecules the plants can use.
 G R AYS TO N M OV E D to Vancouver in 2003
When plant parts wither and die, worms, to become a professor of microbial soil
arthropods, fungi, and microbes decompose their ecology at the University of British
often resilient tissues into smaller components, Columbia and has worked there ever
returning their nutrients to the soil. In parallel,
the continual movements of tiny animals—all since. She’s grown particularly fond of the
their crawling, slithering, and tunneling—
mix different layers of soil together, distrib- region’s towering western red cedars and simi-
ute nutrients throughout, and keep it aerated.
By digesting huge quantities of dirt, secreting lar conifers, as well as the morels, chanterelles,
slimy substances, and depositing durable fecal
pellets, worms, slugs, and arthropods imbue the and other delicious fungi that spring up between
earth with organic matter and help particles stick
together, improving soil structure. them like gifts from the forest. Here, Grayston

In 2000, while working for the Macaulay Insti- and several collaborators have further inves-
tute, Grayston traveled to Tuttlingen, a German
town that straddles the Danube River, so that tigated how different types of forestry change
she and her colleagues could investigate soils
in the Black Forest. This roughly 2,300-square- soil’s microbial communities.
mile region in the southwestern part of the
country, known for its mountain woodlands, Many of their studies compare three types
has long been prized by the mining and lumber
industries. The researchers visited a few sites of logging: clear-cutting, which strips all trees
distinguished by 70-to-80-year-old beeches with
supple, silver barks and gnarled trunks. Beech is from a given site; aggregated retention, which
one of the most common deciduous tree species
in Europe, valued for firewood and timber. Some preserves clumps of trees; and dispersed reten-
of the areas the team surveyed had been heavily
logged; others were relatively untouched. tion, which selectively removes individual trees,

Grayston used metal augers to extract plugs retaining a uniform distribution.
of forest soil from the different sites, stored the
samples in coolers, and whisked them back to To test soil health, Grayston and her colleagues
Scotland for closer examination. Laboratory
tests and cell cultures revealed that in one part buried nylon-mesh bags filled with fine roots
of the woods, intensive harvesting had signifi-
cantly diminished the abundance of microbes. in patches of forest that had been harvested in

At the time, these connections were tantalizing different ways. They left the roots to be decom-
but still rather mysterious in their details. In the
past two decades, however, Grayston and other posed by the tiny animals, fungi, and microbes

and dug them up a few months to several years

later. Back at the lab, the researchers performed

various tests—such as sequencing DNA and mea-

suring levels of essential nutrients—to identify

the organisms associated with the roots and

determine how active they had been.

In many cases, clear-cutting reduced soil bio-

diversity and hindered nutrient cycles. Intensive

logging also frequently shifted the demographics

O U T O F S I G H T 93

Fungal filaments frame
a spiky-bodied rotifer,
a microscopic animal
common in freshwater
ecosystems. In soil,
rotifers propel them-
selves through the thin
films of water that
surround plant parts
and dirt particles,
eating organic debris
along the way.

2,400 X



CLOCKWISE FROM

TOP LEFT

Looking like a fairy’s gift
basket, the fruiting body
of a slime mold releases

spores from its perch
on woody debris draped

in fungal filaments.
Slime molds feast on
other microbes found in
decaying plant matter.

400 X

Commonly known as
hairybacks, the micro-

scopic animals in the
phylum Gastrotricha
survive in the thin films
of water that perme-
ate soil particles. They
move through damp
earth using their hairlike
cilia, searching for bac-
teria, microalgae, and
other microbes to eat.

2,500 X

Most springtails, like
the pair seen here,

grow no larger than
a fifth of an inch. The
name comes from the

tail-like appendage
that allows them to leap

more than 20 times
their own body length

to escape danger.

100 X

This amoeba from the
genus Korotnevella was
found in wet forest soil.
These single-celled crea-
tures can be formidable

predators, enveloping
bacteria, fungi, and other

microbes with their
amorphous bodies and
digesting them whole.

10,000 X

96 N AT I O N A L G E O G R A P H I C

O U T O F S I G H T 97

of soil communities, allowing a relatively small researchers moved from the remaining patches
number of species to dominate. of trees, the more lifeless the soil became.

But not all harvesting methods were equally Related research tracing the flow of carbon
detrimental. The abundance, diversity, and through tree roots revealed that the zone of
activity of microbes remained relatively high influence of a tree or cluster of trees—the area
throughout stands that had been uniformly across which they actively supply microbes
thinned. In sites reduced to clumps of trees, and other tiny organisms with carbon-rich
the researchers found similarly robust and lively molecules—extends about 33 feet on average.
communities of microbes only in the immedi- Retaining patches of trees in otherwise naked
ate vicinity of those clumps. The farther the soil—even large patches—can do only so much.

98 N AT I O N A L G E O G R A P H I C

Outside of a 33-foot zone surrounding those veg-
etal islands, microbial populations will suffer.
Dispersed retention is better for soil health,
Grayston says, because it typically preserves a
tree every 46 to 52 feet, which allows their roots
and respective zones of influence to overlap,
providing carbon to microbes throughout the
forest floor.

Dispersed retention and other selective meth-
ods of harvesting are becoming more common
in some regions of the world, but clear-cutting is
still widely practiced in North America because
it is more efficient, costs less, and requires less
complicated machinery. Aggregated retention
usually is favored over dispersed retention for
similar reasons.

“We need to reconsider forestry practices,”
says environmental microbiologist Petr Baldrian
of the Czech Academy of Sciences’ Institute of
Microbiology. “Clear-cutting is economical, but
it comes at a huge cost to the state of the soil.
We need to find a balance between the needs of
industry and the needs of the forest.”

R E F L E C T I N G O N T H E F U T U R E of Earth’s
forests—in particular, their soils—Gray-
ston is both excited and concerned.

She’s thrilled by the grand mystery of

all that remains to be discovered, which is essen-

tially why she chose to study microscopic life

in the first place. “We’ve made a lot of strides,”

Grayston says, “but we still don’t know who is

actually active at certain times and which spe-

cific organisms are really important for different

processes in the soil.”

At the same time, she is alarmed by the con-

tinued decline of forests in many parts of the

world because of overharvesting, poor land man-

agement, and the stresses of climate change.

Some mycorrhizal Given that Earth’s overlapping ecosystems are
fungi make their homes
so highly interconnected and so integral to the
inside plant cells,
as seen in this cross survival of complex life, the damage we inflict
section of a European
blueberry root. This on the planet’s trees and soils ultimately harms
symbiosis allows soil
residents of very differ- us too.
ent sizes to exchange
nutrients—a beneficial “We’d be buried knee-deep in litter if we didn’t
balance for the forest.
have soil microorganisms,” Grayston says. “With-
2,200 X
out them, life on Earth would cease. They could

do fine without us, but we couldn’t do much

without them.” j

Ferris Jabr is a science writer based in Oregon.
Photographer Oliver Meckes and biologist Nicole
Ottawa document the microscopic world through
their project Eye of Science.

O U T O F S I G H T 99

SAVING YEMEN’S

As war threatens millions of Yemenis, historians and archaeologists are struggling to

HISTORY

preserve symbols of a prosperous, ancient culture.
BY IONA CRAIG

PHOTOGRAPHS BY MOISES SAMAN

Laborers in Yemen’s
capital of Sanaa

rebuild a 350-year-old
mud-brick residence
owned by the Al

Jerafi family. The city,
controlled by Houthi

rebels since 2014,
is subject to air strikes
from a coalition force

led by Saudi Arabia
and the United Arab
Emirates. One attack

in 2015 damaged
the Al Jerafis’ home,
which has been in the
family for 150 years.

101



Young souvenir ven-
dors playfully await
visitors at the rubble-
strewn entrance to
Kawkaban, a popular
tourist destination.
An air strike in February
2016 destroyed the
millennia-old citadel,
killing seven people.

Aida Ahmed Moham-
med (behind desk),
the director of the
National Museum of
Aden, meets with her
staff in an empty exhi-
bition hall. More than
2,000 of the museum’s
most valuable artifacts
are stored in a bank
vault in the port city
of Aden.