Southern Appalachia, Biodiversity Hotspot

Warm weather and rain have conspired to bring out the blooms. With the annual re-awakening, it becomes evident that the Southern Appalachian region is not like other places. The climate and topography between the spine of the Unakas and the mesas and canyons of the Cumberland Plateau are home to more different species of life than virtually any other spot in the temperate zone. These same conditions of climate, soils and topography also help to make this region a wonderful place to garden.

Blueside darter (Copyright 2015 by Conservation Fisheries)

On Monday I attended the annual meeting of the board of directors of Conservation Fisheries, of which I am a charter member. Conservation Fisheries has been raising rare and endangered native fish species for more than 20 years. The fish produced in the Knoxville-based hatchery have been used to restore species to areas from which they have been extirpated. J.R. Shute and Pat Rakes, the co-directors of Conservation Fisheries, have accumulated more data regarding the reproduction and early life history of southern Appalachian stream fishes than perhaps any other group or institution.

Conservation Fisheries deserves the support of everyone who cares about the biodiversity of our beautiful region. Visit their web site to make a donation and to learn more about their important work.

Tennessee has more species of native fishes than any other state except Georgia. In numerous other categories, including salamanders, plants, trees, mosses and various kinds of insects, this region is home to enormous biodiversity, much of it as yet undiscovered and undescribed by scientists.

Despite this, our state has a history of permitting industry to run roughshod through our beautiful woods, poisoning streams and rivers, and contributing to the poverty that has lain over this region like a cloud for more than a century. If you want to understand how absolute the power of money used to be in east Tennessee, I suggest you visit Ducktown. At one time the center of a thriving copper mining industry, Ducktown today preserves as a "living" museum, a portion of the land that was turned into a lunar landscape by the acid-rich effluvium from the smelters. The land was so raveaged that not a blade of grass would grow, and the rocks in some area streams still bear streaks of blue-green copper minerals dumped into the water.

I urge all concerned Tennesseans to find out where their state legislators stand on protecting our precious biological heritage.

Our Living Deck Canopy

Way back in 2011, we bought one of those deck canopies with the nylon roof and mosquito netting all around from a big box retailer for whom one of us worked at the time. With employee and other discounts, I think the cost was about $200. The very first winter, we left the nylon roof in place and it was destroyed by snow load. Such is life. We should have taken it down, as the instructions warned us.

So the following year, we searched and searched and searched for the replacement roof. We still had the mosquito netting curtains, and we were certainly not going to toss out the steel frame. We managed to find a less-than-satisfactory replacement roof. It fit, kind of, and would keep us from getting wet. Trouble is, the replacement roof was not treated to withstand ultraviolet light, as the first one had been. Thus, by fall, it was looking faded and had begun to develop small tears here and there. We had to toss it, and by this time the cats had taken a toll on the curtains, too We were left with only the black steel skeleton. We tried hanging baskets and shelves full of potted plants during 2013, and darn near ruined our deck with all the watering and fertilizer.

Faced with the prospect of having to dismantle and discard the entire thing, we decided to give it one last chance. Jerry made a string trellis by attaching sisal twine to the edges of the deck, and running it up to the top of the canopy frame. He also criss-crossed the roof supports with twine. This was done back in April. As soon as the weather was warm and settled, in early May, I planted seeds of two types of gourds in the soil at the edges of the deck. Along one side I planted three hills of "martin" gourds. These make a pear-shaped fruit just right for conversion to a purple martin house by cutting a hole in one side. Along the other side, I placed two hills of luffa gourds. These are the source of the all-natural luffa bath "sponge."  The accompanying photos show the "roof" from above and below, last Friday. The foliage is dense enough to prevent light rain from hitting us, and the shade is dense, cool and perfect for the miserable, muggy July weather around here. You can see, if you look closely, that fruits are beginning to form. They will hang down inside the canopy like Chinese lanterns. So far, we have had no luffa gourds, although their bright yellow male flowers have appeared in abundance. As you can see from the photo, the martin gourd flowers are white. The majority of the flowers open at night, leading us to suspect they are pollinated by moths, as well as the small bees we see on them during the daytime.

The gourds have made such an interesting and beautiful canopy, we plan to try other vines next year. It would be unwise to grow gourds repeatedly in the same spot, so next year we will try runner beans and/or hyacinth beans, to help restore the soil fertility. Gourds need heat, water, and rich soil to create that huge mass of foliage. For the earliest possible start on the season, plant the seeds indoors in peat pots. They will need about 30 days after germination to get large enough to transplant. The plants should go in the ground in early to mid-May, when the soil is warm and the weather is settled. Leave them until frost kills the vines, at which time the ripened gourds can be harvested. Martin gourds will keep all winter in a warm, dry location, and can be used for all sorts of craft projects, not just birdhouses.

We are learning about luffa and will have more to day about this gourd as our experience increases.

One of the best things about this canopy is the cost. The ill-fitting replaccement roof we ordered was about $75. Two packets of gourd seed set us back less than three bucks, and I still have seeds left for next year.

Happy Anniversary

Happy Anniversary

Today is the 40^th anniversary of the signing of the Endangered Species Act by President Richard Nixon, in 1973. Perhaps more than any other single piece of environmental legislation, this law has generated controversy almost from its inception.

Last August, also 40 years ago, marked the anniversary of the discovery of the snail darter in the Little Tennessee River, by Dr. David Etnier, now emeritus professor of ecology and evolutionary biology at the University of Tennessee. That event ultimately led to the first-ever test of the Endangered Species Act before the Supreme Court of the United States in 1978. In that case, known as “Hill v TVA,” the court ruled that the Tennessee Valley Authority (and by extension any government agency) was subject to the terms of the Act. This decision halted construction on the Tellico Dam, to prevent destruction of the darter’s critical habitat.

It is reasonable to ask how things have played out for the snail darter, and the rest of America’s biodiversity in the intervening 40 years.

Snail darter, photo by Conservation Fisheries

In the interest of full disclosure, I must mention that I have been good friends with Dr. Etnier for all of that 40 year period, and our acquaintance began even earlier, as he was the first biology professor whose class I took in 1968. My friendship with others who have been involved in the conservation of aquatic biodiversity in the Southeast goes back nearly as far. I have served on the board of Conservation Fisheries since its inception in the 1990s. Conservation Fisheries is a nonprofit organization founded by two of Dr. Etnier’s graduate students. It has accumulated an unsurpassed record of success in the captive propagation of endangered native fishes for restocking wild habitats. They have worked with over 25 listed species of fish. Much of this work was made possible by funding obtained under the Endangered Species Act, which requires that a recovery plan be developed for each and every listed species.

As an environmental issue, biodiversity preservation has been overshadowed by climate change in recent years. In one sense, this is appropriate, because the impact of climate change will be felt by all species on the planet. In another sense, however, it is unfortunate, because human activity continues to place animals and plants in peril.

The rivers and streams of the southern Appalachian region survive as treasure troves of biodiversity that is little known and vastly underappreciated. Tennessee and Georgia, for example, each have more than 300 species of native freshwater fish, a level of diversity that rivals some tropical habitats of similar size. The aquatic biodiversity of this region mirrors the diversity of our forests, which shelter thousands of plants, insects and fungi, many found nowhere else on the planet.

Today, therefore, let us take a moment to reflect on the remarkable ecological bounty harbored by our region, and renew a commitment to protect and preserve it for the benefit and enjoyment of future generations.