We often talk about restoration as if it happens in a day. Visitors are astonished at the explosion of life that occurs on a restored wetland once the excavators leave. While human intervention may happen quickly, nature’s recovery takes years, if not decades. The role of researchers and practitioners at Living Observatory is to measure, analyze, and share how Massachusetts’ wetland processes evolve over time. Kate Ballantine, the Marjory Fisher Associate Professor of Environmental Studies at Mount Holyoke College, and an early member of Living Observatory, recently walked me through just how important these projects, and Living Observatory, are to the future of restoration.
Kate in the field. Photo: Kate Ballantine
We had planned to chat at Project Stream, a freshwater restoration project facilitated by Kate on Mount Holyoke’s campus, but on that early September day it was, of course, raining. We therefore met in her lab on the third floor of Clapp, one of the college’s science buildings. Upon this shift in plans, I was thrilled, albeit nervous as I held back tears of nostalgia - I hadn’t been in Clapp, my favorite building on campus, for two years due to COVID. But I held it together, and Kate and I had a lovely chat surrounded by waders and lab coats.
Kate is an accomplished researcher. Much of her research involves what the effects of wetland restoration are on the microbiome of wetland soils, what the role of restored wetlands is in climate change mitigation, and how biochar amendments influence wetland soil function. Kate is a board member at Living Observatory, and one of the best professors I had at Mount Holyoke. She encourages us to think about other living beings as equals, and she has a notable ability to provide hope: She refers to all life on Earth as our ‘friends and neighbors,’ thus class discussions are approached with the sentiment that all life is equal in importance, and her animated passion for restoration as a method to protect and improve those lives is a breath of fresh optimistic air.
This mindset fit in well with Living Observatory’s objectives when Kate joined about ten years ago. She first learned about the Tidmarsh restoration from colleagues at UMass Amherst and a 5-College conference. As a biogeochemist, the question of how cranberry farms can be returned to functioning wetlands was fascinating. Given that Tidmarsh was the largest freshwater wetland restoration in Massachusetts and not far from South Hadley, she arranged a field trip with students. Soon Living Observatory and the restoration of cranberry farmland became significant parts of her research and teaching.
Recovering wetlands in Massachusetts have a rich history, thus a wealth of unique learning potential. These sites share attributes such as their ancient glacial origin, and they underwent decades of agricultural manipulation to maximize the monoculture of cranberry plants. Many sites are also influenced by nearby human residences. I knew that this was important, but I wondered, does what we do here, if it is so specific, impact the broader reaches of restoration? Kate’s answer was unequivocal: “Yes!” Yes, restored wetlands in Massachusetts provide homes for all the creatures once displaced. These projects provide a plethora of ecosystem services, such as drainage for large-scale precipitation events or hurricanes, natural water filtration, and overall biodiversity. And there are global implications that expand beyond the Commonwealth. One important feature of a coastal wetland is the presence of peat, which while comprising only 3% of the planet’s surface area, can sequester up to twice as much carbon as forests [1.] Our east coast wetlands are serving our creatures and people, and are an indispensable component of the work to fight climate change.
A cranberry bog turned restored wetland is also a unique learning opportunity because while the transformation seems quick to the naked eye, the interaction of processes makes it far more complex. In a few months, machinery following a design specification can turn flat cranberry growing surface into a ‘wetland.’ But is it a functioning wetland? To explain why wetland restoration can appear more immediately successful than it is, Kate crafted an insightful comparison: If on the west coast, a stand of mature sequoias was cut then replanted, in a few years there would be small sequoias working their way through the underbrush. However, no one would look at those young trees and say, ‘The forest is back to what it was before!’ Visible changes occur every year as the trees mature, and we know that as they get bigger every year, they provide new services to their ecosystem. So, one could monitor that site for years as new habitats develop and the ecosystem dynamics continuously change. For wetland restoration, it is the same principle, except it progresses invisibly, underwater and in the soil. Looking at the water-rich landscape only a year or so after the cranberry mat is broken up, one might say, ‘it worked!’ But just like in a maturing stand of sequoias, there are significant post-restoration changes happening for years and years – we just can’t see these developments as clearly as a maturing tree.
This is why it is so important that wetland restoration practitioners working on these sites are provided the means to return year after year, to learn how these sites are maturing and what they can do better. There are a lot of restoration projects happening throughout the world, but as Kate mentioned it is often hard to know whether the restoration has been done well or not. To increase our understanding of ecosystem development and how to improve future projects, a researcher needs to return to a site to monitor “how it’s going.” With pride, Kate emphasized that Living Observatory fills this need by offering such means: funding, helping hands, and the space to hyper focus. LO comprises many people from different spaces - academia, art, technology, and more - so there is no pressure for anyone to wear more than one hat. LO invites focused, long-term projects that provide a deep dive into the evolving nature of change. Members are asked to share knowledge from the perspective of their specialty, even as they learn from and brainstorm with others to articulate how these different ways of observing connect. This community and retired cranberry farms come together to create a long-term learning space.
Tidmarsh Wildlife Sanctuary, ever evolving. Photo: Living Observatory.
LO’s intention to support a well-rounded organization means it is not only a place for researchers. For the past few months in addition to working at LO, I had been helping my county’s conservation district, working with local farmers in Massachusetts. I would enter a conversation with a farmer from a research point of view, promoting sustainability and land conservation. But for a farmer, growing food is not a science project, it’s a livelihood, and there would often be a disconnect between my methods and theirs. I was curious about Kate’s experience with farmers since LO is mostly focused on retired agricultural land. She declared that oftentimes people share the “most important goals.” Farmers are caretakers of the land just as restoration practitioners are, despite differences in stewardship. At the end of the day, we all want healthy, functioning land. Farmers who have been in the same area for generations and restoration practitioners who conduct research on a site both form kinship with the land. The more interaction there is between farmer and research practitioner, the more knowledge is shared about being the best steward for a site. Living Observatory is a space to facilitate this social connection and mutual understanding, a space where alliances can be fostered, and where storied conversations invite learning.
As our conversation ended, I realized I had kept Kate overtime. Her delightful passion for the subject had kept us talking for longer than intended. Passion might be an understatement. Kate’s sentiments are better described as pure love for what she does, and for the Earth. One of the last stories Kate recounted took place at a field that a farmer had let meadow over: this once agricultural landscape was flourishing with wild native plants and bursting with the fluttering brilliance of more monarch butterflies than she had ever seen at one time before. I got chills as she painted the scene. The return of these “friends and neighbors” to places they had known for millennia, once interrupted by anthropogenic land use, but then restored, is a magical and motivating reality. I left incredibly energized. Kate has that effect on people. While many conversations about our environment can result in climate anxiety, conversations with Kate Ballantine always end with hope. I left proud to have been Kate’s student, and proud to have grown up in Massachusetts where there are so many successful restoration projects occurring. Even more than that, I was bursting with pride to be a part of Living Observatory.
[1] Hance, J. (2017, July 28). Undiscovered peatlands might be the most important thing you learn about today. Here's why. Ensia. Retrieved October 14, 2021, from https://ensia.com/features/peatlands/.