Greenversations

By Terry Ippolito

OK, I admit it: although I cannot do it often enough, I need to get away from my desk and computer in New York City and get out there to see what is happening in the real world. And, more specifically, experience the real world of environmental education.

Recently, I went to Port Monmouth, New Jersey to see what some 5th graders were going to be doing on a field trip. This was not a run-around-and-do whatever field trip. Through the efforts of the Monmouth County Park System, this day had a purpose: to teach students about the estuary at Sandy Hook Bay. And I had one too: I wanted to see firsthand what a project EPA is partly supporting really looked like.

An estuary, in case you wondered, is an ecosystem created where fresh water meets salt water. It is a special place. The students learned that as they went through four “stations” or activities: seining, shell talk & beachcombing, stewardship activity & plankton study and a boat ride.

From the vantage points of being on shore and then off shore, the students learned about the plants and animals that depend on the estuary, were amazed at the variety of creatures the seining net brought up, and proudly named the different ones when I asked what they were. They found out how to stop trash from getting into the estuary’s waters: don’t litter because that stuff on the street ends up being swept into the estuary during rainstorms. They took a look at the New York – New Jersey Harbor Estuary from the deck of the boat and get a sense of how many different communities share that ecosystem.

I am pretty sure that the things the kids learned that day will stay with them. The field trip was part of a series of classes that preceded and followed the field work so they could connect their classroom learning with their real world outdoor experiences.

It was definitely worth the trip, even if I did have to get back to my office for the afternoon.

About the author: Terry Ippolito, the Environmental Education Coordinator in EPA’s New York City office, lives in Brooklyn, about a mile from Jamaica Bay. She takes that street-to-beach litter connection seriously and picks up litter each morning on her way to the train.

Editor’s Note: The opinions expressed in Greenversations are those of the author. They do not reflect EPA policy, endorsement, or action, and EPA does not verify the accuracy or science of the contents of the blog.

By Thomas Mendez

As an avid SCUBA diver in the Great Lakes region, I’ve seen firsthand how an invasive species can cause havoc in an ecosystem. Invasive Zebra and Quagga mussels now blanket the bottom of our Great Lakes. Because of their widespread proliferation without natural predators, it would seem that no solution is in sight. So, when I heard about Westborough High School’s effort to control their local invasive species with another predator species, I was intrigued.

Westborough is a community west of Boston that has a problem with the invasive purple loosestrife plant. This plant is quickly changing the balance of natural wetlands in the area by outcompeting native species. These aggressive plants originated in Europe and Asia. Here in the United States, there are no native predator species that can control purple loosestrife populations. The result is an invasive plant that spreads quickly, causes significant damage to wetlands, reduces native plant coverage and discourages diversity in the local ecosystem.

This is where the students of Westborough High School are making a difference. The environmental studies students, together with the Westborough Community Land Trust, are raising beetles. These aren’t just any beetles, but a specific species, Galerucella, that prey on the purple loosestrife. At first I was leery of this method of species control because the Galerucella beetle itself is not a native species. However, my trust in this method was renewed as I researched the efforts of these motivated students.

The Galerucella beetles the students are raising feed on purple loosestrife almost exclusively. Also, these beetles prefer purple loosestrife and will only reproduce on this plant even when other native species are available. It would seem that these two species’ fates are intertwined. As the beetles feed on the purple loosestrife, the population of purple loosestrife declines, the beetles are forced to move on to another area the purple loosestrife inhabits or naturally die off. Both the USDA and the Massachusetts Department of Environmental Protection have approved this method of bio-control and have been using it for some time now.

These students are learning valuable environmental lessons while helping to control their local invasive species. This winning combination, classroom education and real world experience that produces a cleaner and healthier environment, provides a lesson students will not forget.

About the author: Thomas Mendez is a Student Temporary Employment Program intern in the Air and Radiation Division in EPA’s Chicago office. He holds a Bachelor of Science in Computer Engineering and is currently finishing up his Master of Science in Environmental Engineering.

Editor’s Note: The opinions expressed in Greenversations are those of the author. They do not reflect EPA policy, endorsement, or action; and EPA does not verify the accuracy or science of the contents of the blog post.

By Cameron Davis

Nearly 1,000 people attended the recent Coastal Zone 2011 conference in Chicago to recognize the first year anniversary of President Obama’s “National Ocean Policy,” to protect the country’s oceans, coasts and Great Lakes. So, why should we freshwater fans in the Great Lakes basin care about a policy that seems largely about saltwater? For a lot of reasons.

First, the Great Lakes are connected to and impacted by saltwater. Our front door is the St. Lawrence River, through which ocean-going ships enter the Great Lakes. Our back door is the Chicago Area Waterway System (CAWS), which connects Lake Michigan to the Gulf of Mexico via the Chicago, Illinois and Mississippi Rivers. Both doors present a way for invasive species to enter the Great Lakes and vice versa.

Second, in an era of shrinking budgets, stronger coordination and partnership is important. At this conference, EPA Administrator Lisa Jackson’s work with the Great Lakes Inter-Agency Task Force was mentioned as a good example of Federal and binational agency coordination.

Third, investments in ecosystem restoration typically come out of the same pots of funding. To avoid a zero-sum game, where one dollar for one system means the loss of that dollar for a different system, the national policy can be a mechanism to ensure a “rising tide lifts all boats” by funding and coordinating work in all regions while recognizing regional differences.

For more about President Obama’s National Ocean Policy, visit

For more about the CZ 2011 conference, visit

About the author: Cameron Davis is Senior Advisor to EPA Administrator Lisa Jackson. He provides counsel on Great Lakes matters, including the Great Lakes Restoration Initiative.

Editor’s Note: The opinions expressed in Greenversations are those of the author. They do not reflect EPA policy, endorsement, or action, and EPA does not verify the accuracy or science of the contents of the blog.

By Nancy Stoner

As I flew over Alaska, I was struck by the vast beauty of this pristine and unspoiled land. From my perch in the helicopter, looking over the complex waterscape of lakes, wetlands, winding rivers and streams, I encountered a unique ecosystem that led to an equally unique way of life among the people who inhabit this vast and wild land. This was my trip to Bristol Bay, Alaska, a place far removed from the rush of life in Washington, D.C.

The raw nature of this place inspired me. I traveled by boat over water that was remarkably clear and clean, and stretched endlessly before us – as far as the eye could see. On land, I saw tundra brimming with blooming wildflowers and snowcapped mountains in the distance.

Bristol Bay is home to sockeye salmon, rainbow trout, moose, caribou and countless other aquatic and land life. At least 20 of the Bay’s Native American communities rely on its natural resources for subsistence living and traditional use, and the Bay holds the most productive sockeye salmon fishery in the world worth hundreds of millions of dollars each year.

Through my visits in several native communities, I saw and heard the stories of people and their way of life in Bristol Bay. On Bristol Bay, I saw offshore canneries and fishing boats lined up to harvest the sockeye salmon spawning run. On the rivers that flow into the Bay, I saw riverfront homes and heard from people that caught and ate from what the river held. I saw huge king salmon that had just begun to swim upstream through these communities. I met many subsistence fishers, who divide their catch among elders and others who cannot catch fish, and prepare a winter’s supply of food for their families.

This incredible trip to Alaska and observation of the daily lives of people who fully depend on clean water for food and life left an indelible impression and a deepened respect for the people and their way of life, as well as the pristine beauty of Alaska’s waterways.

About the author: Nancy Stoner is Acting Assistant Administrator for EPA’s Office of Water. The trip included meetings with the public as EPA conducts scientific assessments of the watershed and considers the effects of large-scale development (www.epa.gov/Region10/bristolbay/).

Editor’s Note: The opinions expressed in Greenversations are those of the author. They do not reflect EPA policy, endorsement, or action, and EPA does not verify the accuracy or science of the contents of the blog.

I had the pleasure of meeting Ray Bentley, a pilot-biologist with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, last summer during a visit to EPA’s Western Ecology Division in Corvallis, Oregon, when he took me, photographer Eric Vance, and scientists Steven Klein and Scott Leibowitz on two flights to photograph and document ongoing EPA research from the air (I blogged about one of the flights for the August, 26 “Science Wednesday”)

Thanks to the skill, professionalism, and patience of our pilot, we landed with a portfolio of several hundred stunning aerial photographs to support science and outreach efforts, a far better understanding of EPA ecosystem services research, and a deeper appreciation for the spirit of collaboration between EPA and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.

Thanks to Ray’s quick smile and generous spirit, the trip was both fruitful and fun.

Last week, I learned the tragic news that Ray, along with his passenger biologist David Pitkin, died on January 17 when their plane went down in a wooded area west of Philomath, OR. The two were returning from a day spent flying over estuaries along the Oregon coast, counting ducks, geese, and swans for an annual mid-winter waterfowl survey.

Even though I only spent the better part of an afternoon with Ray, he made a big impression. His love of flying and wildlife were evident. As a wildlife aficionado and former U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service employee myself, I loved hearing his tales of survey flights over wilderness areas and National Wildlife Refuges from Chesapeake Bay to Alaska. He even extended our first flight a few minutes to see if he could find a grey whale to show us off the coast of Newport. (No such luck.)

One of the best parts of my job is getting to work with people—scientists, photographers, and pilot-biologists included—who clearly love what they do. Ray’s passion for flying and wildlife conservation were obvious, and infectious. The flights he took us on were the highlight of a great week, and I feel fortunate to have had the opportunity to work with him.

I offer my heartfelt condolences to the families, and many friends and colleagues of Ray Bentley and David Pitkin.

About the Author: Aaron Ferster is the lead science writer-editor for EPA’s Office of Research and Development.

Each week we write about the science behind environmental protection. Previous Science Wednesdays.

About the Author: Susan Lundquist works in EPA’s Ecosystem Services Research Program. She has been with the Agency for almost seven years.

Like so many consumers out there, I admit I spent time Thanksgiving Day combing through newspaper ads in preparation for the next day. It’s my usual thing, coffee early in the morning when it’s still dark, lending a certain mystic quality to an otherwise silly tradition of planning my shopping attack—solidifying my vision of goodies bought at bargain prices.

I indulged until I ran across an ad for a mini indoor garden for fresh herbs and lettuces grown under a sophisticated lighting system. Great idea, but suddenly I realized I already had an environmental bargain of my own, a raised-bed, outdoor winter garden.

I’m growing a winter garden using simple raised garden beds, a hoop house for each bed, and plastic covering. I’m eating seasonally with fresh cilantro, arugula, thyme, parsley, red and green leaf lettuces, chives, and mesclun.

Seeing the ad for the mini garden made me think about my job. I work in the Ecosystem Services Research Program at EPA. After all, my makeshift outdoor garden is a mini ecosystem in its own right. My indulgence in Black Friday ads made me ponder the significance of the Ecological Research Program recently changing its name to the Ecosystem Services Research Program (ESRP).

We changed the name so it would more accurately reflect how the goods and services we get from nature may be adversely affected or positively enhanced by management actions. On the tiny scale of my garden, an adverse action might be using pesticides that harm the bees and other pollinators that are the basis for my harvest.

The goal of the ESRP is to transform the way we account for the type, quality and magnitude of nature’s good and services, what we call “ecosystem services.” So even though my winter garden is on a small scale, it provides a great example of one of the fundamental ecosystem services: food production.

Isn’t it time we start thinking about ecosystem services on a larger scale and how we can begin to more accurately account for the cost of using these services? It’s certainly food for thought in early morning hours before Black Friday.

Learn more by visiting our website at http://epa.gov/ord/esrp/

About the author: Dr. Robert Lackey is a 27-year veteran senior scientist in EPA’s Office of Research and Development’s Corvallis, Oregon research laboratory.

Very young children have a habit of asking innocent, but thorny questions. My grandson, however, has reached an age where innocence no longer passes for an excuse for his questions; he knows enough now that his questions reflect the traits of a budding intellectual troublemaker.

A case in point: here is my answer to his question about the increasingly popular term: ecosystem health.

“Grandpa, in school today in my science class, we talked about healthy ecosystems. My teacher says that when we are not feeling well, we go to a doctor to find out how to get healthy. If I have a sick ecosystem, she says that I should go to a scientist find out how to make the ecosystem healthy. Dad says you are a scientist, so what is a healthy ecosystem?”

It is a good question and one that I, as a research scientist who has worked on such issues for over 40 years, should be able to answer with ease.

This seemingly straightforward question, however, does not have a simple answer. Further, the answer requires a clear understanding of the proper role of science in a democracy (PDF) (7 pp., 39K) .

First, how is a person to recognize a healthy ecosystem? Many might identify the healthiest ecosystems as those that are pristine. But what is the pristine state of an ecosystem? Is it the condition of North America prior to alterations caused by European immigrants, say 1491? Or perhaps it is the condition of the land sometime well after the arrival of immigrants who came by way of the Bering land bridge, say 1,000 years ago? Or maybe it is the state of North America prior to the arrival of any humans, say more than 15,000 years ago?

Ultimately it is a policy decision (PDF) (16 pp., 173K) that will specify the desired state of an ecosystem. It is a choice, a preference, a goal.

Scientists can provide options, alternatives, and possibilities, but ultimately in a democracy it is society that chooses from among the possible goals (PDF) (6 pp., 157K) .

A malarial infested swamp in its natural state could be defined as a healthy ecosystem, as could the same land converted to an intensively managed rice paddy. Neither the swamp nor the rice paddy can be seen as a “healthy” ecosystem except through the lens of a person’s values or policy goals.

Once the desired state of an ecosystem is specified by someone, or by society overall through laws and regulation, scientists can determine how close we are to achieving that goal. They might even offer some approaches that might better achieve the goal. Ultimately, though, it is society (PDF) (5 pp., 21K) that defines the goal, not scientists. One person’s sick ecosystem is another person’s healthy ecosystem.

So the answer to my grandson’s provocative question is that human health is not an appropriate metaphor for ecosystem health. There is no inherently “healthy” state of ecosystems except when viewed from the perspective of societal values.

Pristine ecosystems (wilderness watersheds, Antarctica, uninhabited tundra) are certainly very different than highly altered ecosystems (farms, city parks, harbors) but neither a pristine ecosystem nor a highly altered ecosystem is scientifically better or worse — just different.