Y01 (Click title above to read this entry, click the like button at the end of the entry to vote. . . .)

Two Sides to the Virgin River

It was the first day of me “meeting” the Virgin River alone. It was calm. The water was rushing and the birds were singing in the quiet. The Virgin River water was clear and warm to the touch. It also had scary spiders that looked poisonous, but they would just run away when someone got near. They were water spiders. They are good swimmers. They are also good diggers; they go under the sand and hide from predators that try to get them, like wolf spiders. They hate water spiders!

It was very sandy. I started to dig and found some rocks that were buried. I dug some more and found clay. It was all soft and gray. This is an ingredient to make pottery, or you could just leave it like that. I also found some precious rocks.

There were a lot of bugs and caterpillars. Then my mom came with my little brother and we took a walk down the road. There were a lot of cockroaches! I tried not to step on them. We went further and there were deer, so we watched them, and later we saw piles of dirt and chunks of rock. I noticed a short cut I’d found to the river, because I saw Robert’s home. He lives near my neighborhood. So now I can come and see the Virgin River and not take the long way. But there were a bunch of spiky plants and dried up plants around the path, so I’d have to be careful. Yes, I’d go back and explore after this first visit, because I had a fun day exploring at the Virgin River.

Now I am going to talk about the flood…

I’ll tell you the story about the flood. One rainy night while my brothers and I were watching TV, it started to RUMBLE. It was hailing and the house started to shake and there was a lot of thunder. When I looked out the widow everything went white. Two seconds later, a huge noise made me deaf for a while. My brothers got scared, and me too! Our parents were not there because they were grocery shopping. They did get back to the house. It was raining in St. George, but just softly.

There was a wild fire in Zion National Park. They said that lightning hit a tree and started the fire and some animals were killed. It even destroyed some of their habitats. In the morning, I heard the news that the thunderstorm had made the Virgin River flood and that “Rockville would have to evacuate.”

It was raining pretty hard. Traffic was jammed and the street was slippery. There was a mini-flood where we park the cars! Most stores were closed and not that many people were walking around. Most were trying to take cover because of the hard rain.

It was cold in our house and the heater was broken that warms up all the rooms. It uses gas from a big tank outside the house and is expensive to refill. After a while it did clear up but was a little foggy around the mountains. Then it got sunny, and the house warmed up! It was scary at first, but everything worked out.

I hope you were entertained by my stories.

Virgin River is calm

Intense, sometimes quiet

Rolling down

Going down in a motion

In the water, there’s fish going down the river

Nothing will stop the Virgin River going down in that motion

Roaring when winds blow high

It’s fun watching the river change

Virgin River, nothing will stop it

Eventually joining other waters

Rumbling down, nothing will stop it

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Friends

I share with you
My thoughts and dreams.
You’ve seen me through
My childish schemes.

You understand
My deepest fears.
You’ve been with me
Through blood and tears.

You hold my trust,
My secrets safe.
And guide me to
A higher place.

Your courage, strong
As structured steel.
You buoy me up,
Sheer force of will.

You soothe my heart
When stabbed by pain,
And give me strength
To rise again.

A friendship forged
Through endless time.
Forever weaved
Entwined with mine.

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The pasture my wife and I own  has never been in great shape.   The irrigation system has always been cobbled together, and the pipes were never large enough function properly.  Although we own five acre feet of water, the irrigation company we are a part of feeds by gravity:  40 psi just won’t drive the volume of water we need through a 1-1/2″ pipe.  Redoing the system has always been on the table, but delayed by various things financial and physical. . . and of course, just chasing bigger problems.

That is changing this year, we are remaking the irrigation with 3″ pipe, new valves, and other improvements that will allow us to deliver the volume of water the pasture needs.  More than that, it will allow us to live a small dream of mine–rethinking what is in and around a pasture.  This is one place where the language of conservation is failing us, because we are so focused on preservation and restoration that we rarely give much thought to ground completely transformed by use.  In valuing wilderness we sometimes overlook the role that the pasture can play in the larger ecological system.  The pasture is more often the problem: the source of nutrient pollution, a monoculture inhospitable to pollinators and a source of exotic seed spread by bird, wind and hoof.  The pasture, however, is also an essential part of our cultural landscape, a landscape that has supported generations of people.  Until very recently, the presence of domestic animals was essential to our lives.  The question I want to ask is how can we reshape our cultural landscape to work in closer harmony with the near-wild lands surround us, such that the presence of the pasture supports rather than degrades the surrounding ecosystem?  How can we make the cultural landscape–our agricultural heritage–easier to maintain for future generations?

I have been circling around this idea for some time, but, the idea was driven home when I saw a video of grazing sheep in Italy.  They were ranging across multiple properties, gleaning from and fertilizing fields, dining on herbs that could be found in salads just as easily as they could be found on the fence line.   As a cultural landscape, you could  see the local customs and aesthetic expectations for how the land should look were in relative harmony–there was no evidence of mowing, or herbicide used on fence lines.  There was clearly a wide range of species growing in the interstitial spaces between cultivated fields, roads and houses.  The landscape simply “was”, and it was beautiful.  While it might seem odd to reconsider or design a cultural landscape, the particular cultural landscape in which I live is barely 120 years old: given the age of the European landscape I am thinking of, it would seem that the die might not be entirely cast.

In re-thinking my pasture, I have settled on some evolving “Pasture Principles” to test:

1) Contain water on site.  Animal waste is an inescapable part of grazing on a pasture.  All run off should be contained on site such that it is infiltrated into the ground as fertilizer at levels that it can be utilized by the vegetation, or collected such that it can be recycled.  At no time should water run off the site on the surface, or enter an adjacent waterway. Plant drainage ways to take up nutrients and slow the flow of water.

2) Plant the margins.  Margins, fence lines, and areas inaccessible to grazers should be planted with native and naturalized plants that provide pollinator forage, and are aesthetically pleasing.  They should be competitive enough to shade out invasive grasses present in the surrounding area (provided enough of a head start).  This will both help to contain the pasture, and present the infiltration of undesired species.  Higher growing plant material at fence lines and around the perimeter of the pasture adds texture to break the wind at the surface of the ground.  Eliminate the need for mowing and weeding the fence line to the greatest extent possible.

3) Incorporate plant diversity in the pasture.  Where native brush establishes itself, allow it to remain.  Plant a variety of herbs and legumes  so that there is true biodiversity.  This will aid in resilience and drought tolerance, and will reduce the amount of grasses that need to be planted.  Actively identify and remove the most problem species, and avoid planting aggressive grasses known to be potential problems in the larger landscape.  Provide varied nutrition for livestock.

4) Use rotational grazing in a subdivided pasture.  Allow plants to become established without grazing pressure, and graze grasses before they go to seed.  Allow time for waste left on the pasture to be taken up and utilized by plant materials.

5) Incorporate shade.  Locate shade trees at appropriate locations in the pasture to provide shelter for animals and to reduce the stress on irrigated vegetation in the heat of the summer: reduce the need for irrigation

I finished the site grading a few years ago. . .  I am having fun designing my seed mixes in anticipation of the new irrigation system.  I am thankful that I have friends with extensive expertise in the specific flora of our area.  I will post the mixes, and the progress, as it unfolds.

If you want to start a fight, talk about conserving flood plain. No single topic of late has caused as many hurt feelings among neighbors. Home owners feel threatened and want to protect their homes, developers want to keep as much flexibility as possible, while many citizens are alarmed at the extent of recent bank armoring. As a topic of conversation, this one touches a lot of nerves.

Understanding that, there are real reasons to be concerned about conserving flood plain and limiting the amount of future bank armoring. Primary among them are flood safety, and the health of the river system as a whole.

Flood safety:

While it seems counter-intuitive, bank armoring often creates hazardous situations in major flood events. Canalization of the river increases velocity and the erosive effects of the water. Where armoring ends, there is often severe erosion. Changes in the character of the stream channel can also cause “hydraulic jumps,” where the reduction in velocity causes a proportionate increase in volume. Finally, when armored banks over top, the failure is often catastrophic. While we are right to protect critical infrastructure and homes, bank armoring in itself is not a solution to ensuring flood safety, lest the entire river is armored.

The health of the river system:

The Virgin River, in addition to providing water to many of us, is critical habitat for several species of fish and birds, especially the Southwestern Willow Fly Catcher. The Walton Family Foundation has taken an active role in preserving Southwestern Willow Fly Catcher habitat, and the Virgin River Project is actively attending to the conservation of fish species. It would be nice to think that that alone was enough. As valuable as specific conservation efforts are, it is important to understand that the river is a larger system: the health of one stretch or tributary impacts the health of the whole, and the viability of those areas which have been specifically identified as habitat.

Understanding the value of flood plane, and the mechanisms by which it is degraded is essential to both flood safety and maintaining the health of the river system. Form Tomorrow is beginning a two year project to explore ways of addressing concerns about the flood plain. Specifically, we are interested in exploring the possibility of developing a regional “flood plane bank” that would purchase easements from property owners. We are also interested in exploring other creative strategies that encourage conservation and respect the conservative values of the community.

There is the inevitable fear that a project such as this might somehow prejudice future decisions or unduly impact one person or group of people. Understanding and designing a project that is respectful of these very real concerns is at the core of Form Tomorrow’s first steps in conducting this project. It won’t be easy, however, looking at the problems of flood safety and flood plain conservation on a wider basis is a critical step in the evolving relationship between communities and the river. We are all part of a community embedded in a functioning natural system.

The conversation has progressed far enough that the concept of the joint campground will be presented to the Zion Canyon Corridor Commission at an upcoming meeting, and, conversations regarding the option will be opened with local stake holders and officials.  We are all very excited by the real prospect of a Mosquito  Cove alternative, and, the work done last summer continues to form the back bone of the conversation.

Interns, be proud!

Two exciting programs are available this year: The Leeds Mining Heritage Trail and the Flood Plain Banking Study.  These real world projects offer students in the disciplines of architecture, landscape architecture, planning, and related fields a chance to work on real world projects with real world impacts.  This is your chance to take your considerable skill, and apply it to something that will make a difference in peoples lives.  Not to mention, you may well be able to come back in a few years and study the history of the area on a trail you played a part in designing.

Education to Action is a unique program in that you, the intern, direct the work.  Form Tomorrow provides mentoring to help ensure your success.  You will be on the front lines of working with citizens and governments, and understanding how to scope and complete a real world project.  A Form Tomorrow Internship gives you a chance to test what you can do, and learn a lot about navigating the work environment in a positive, supportive work environment.

Accommodations will be provided in several small communities near to Zion National Park, an area with unparalleled hiking and recreational opportunities.

Not long ago I had the honor of sitting with members of several non-governmental organizations concerned with land conservation, specifically with purchasing easements to protect valuable habitat. This was not the sort of meeting that libertarians and republicans could find much of a problem with—we were discussing practical purchasing of land or development rights, not regulation or restriction (That said, I am sure that any such meeting will inspire some to think otherwise—and for that reason, I will leave the names out of it).  Representatives of activist groups were conspicuously absent.  The major thrust of the meeting was finding a way to coordinate dwindling and waning resources, of coordinating what are currently disconnected conservation efforts—could individual organizations create an impact greater than the sum their parts? That I was there was interesting in itself, since I am not primarily concerned with conservation easements.  I was there because I spend time in the smaller communities helping them to express their voice; I was there to reflect the mood on the ground, and to identify what people felt were local priorities.  This was a nuts and bolts group—concerned with listening to communities.

That it had not happened sooner is embarrassing in some ways, but the advent of this happening represents two major shifts.   First, it represents the maturing of our region—an understanding that in this realm there are seriously threatened habitats and priorities for conservation that are widely shared.  While there are always some people who want to protect the view from their living room window, this was a group of people who understood that there are both biological and cultural reasons for choosing one project over another.  Second, it acutely codifies the changes in our economy: there are simply fewer dollars for conservation in the private and public sector.  We all want to achieve lofty aims, and we can no longer attempt to do it on our own, we must collaborate.   If priorities are shared it is easier to direct what are ever scarcer dollars.

It was not so long ago, however, that several of us were quietly at odds over the early drafts of Washington County Growth and Conservation Act.  In a climate of hyper-development and mistrust several of us in the room had opposed that act for the amount of land that it would sell out of the public trust: 25,000 acres. I, among others, could rattle off statistics about the proportion of the land in relationship to the developed area of the County.  To us it seemed that it was all development, and no conservation.  For my own part, I pleaded that we plan for the future before we dispose of that much land.  In the end it all seemed like a victory to me.   The disposal was reduced to under 5000 acres, and the County sponsored Vision Dixie—a County wide planning process that laid the ground work for a lot of progress in the County.

Yet, in the face of a collapsing economy, the sale of 5000 acres may not even yield enough money to purchase inholdings in a National Conservation Area created in the bill—much less be able to fund any other conservation effort.  While the designations of wilderness and “Wild and Scenic Rivers” made by the act are supremely important, I can see that the climate of mistrust that surrounded the earlier drafts obscured a more subtle possibility: that a well crafted bill could have facilitated the purchase of critical habitat and riparian areas in exchange for the sale of tracts of public land with lower conservation value.   I do see the other side of the equation: alarm on the part of the general public at the potential development near their town in exchange for a piece of habitat they never see.  That is a much more nuanced version of what many of us were reacting too.

It was a gap in my own imagination that I did not see the intricate relationship between habitat conservation and community planning.   While we like to believe that good community planning leads to habitat conservation and vice versa, working on one side of the balance sheet and not the other inevitably obscures some inherent conflicts between local aims, and the larger biological and hydrological systems that surround us.  Our communities disproportionately occupy lands of high conservation value: land adjacent to rivers and tributaries, lower grasslands that animals prefer as habitat.   We all like to look up at unmarred hillsides and mountain tops, but we forget that animals like the more habitable low lands as much as we do, and that we often occupy or desire to occupy what is the best habitat.

It is in the flood planes and among the dry-washes doomed to be constrained by culverts that I feel the greatest pain—where I wish that we had the conservation dollars to buy multiple small scale easements in order to create a biological and hydrological infrastructure that laces through our communities and binds them together.  Many people in small communities wish for something similar, except that they can not see a pathway to getting there.   There are efforts afoot—a project to create a land bank in St. George specifically tasked with this sort of protection.  It is something I whole heartedly support.   At the same time, The natural infrastructure I am speaking about reaches far beyond one city, and even one County.

The next key step in my mind is a coordinated effort that looks at building the larger network of rivers, washes and streams—agricultural lands and flood planes—into something meaningful at the scale of the region.  Whether in exchange for other developable land or for simple fee compensation, it is an effort we must undertake.  Doing so will mean that citizens need to look beyond their front door and living room window.   It will mean understanding that habitat is everywhere, especially beneath our own feet and in our own towns.  If we work together to develop a broader vision—one that respects the needs of property owners while promoting real conservation, all of our communities will benefit.

viagra

The trails committee, spearheaded by Ed Zumwalt and Loanne Barnes, has done considerable work, and is well on its way to completing the application.