rage" RAIN Tune 1981 come another quality wine producing area. Another option is reforesting the land to produce commercial timber. However, is there any difference between these practices and raising sheep? Vineyards are sterile systems where little life other than grapes is allowed, and the harvesting of trees is at least as ecologically disruptive as raising sheep. Some might argue this final point, contending that there now exist timber harvesting techniques that are selective and do no great harm to their environs. But even if such methods are practiced in the future and if they do prove unharmful, they should be compared with equally enlightened means of sheep ranching. 4. Finally, there is the explicit goal of many environmentalists and back-to-the-landers to allow the land to go wild, to withdraw it from production. This argument, stated or unstated, pervades much of the debate over coyotes and about land use in general. It is a position I once held, but I have changed my mind. I do not think we can stand up on every occasion and yell save it, preserve it, make it a wilderness area. Though there are definitely times and places where this need be our approach, it cannot be applied to every place, every time. In the coming decades most arable land will be needed for production, and the prime question becomes not whether to use it or not, but how to use it. In the past we have too simply equated use with exploitation and destruction, and countered with the equally simple solution of "Don't use it. " It is time we ceased thinking of land as either used (exploited) or preserved (a park). Whether this need for more productive land comes about or not, it is time we ceased thinking of land as either used (and thus eXe ploited, screwed up, and lost) or preserved (a park). Land can be used to produce and to provide open space, wildlife habitat, and recreational opportunity. The English countryside is a proven example. Almost all the land is privately owned and used, yet the public is generally free to use it for hiking or picnicking. When I was there, I often pitched a tent in some field and woke in the morning to the sound of cows grazing outside. The cows did not detract from my "experience," and hopefully my presence did not detract from theirs We also need to look at our motives for moving back to the land, for "reinhabiting" it. Reinhabitation does not mean owning a small park while you earn your income and buy your good outside. To let one's land go wild in this way is to ultimately place a heavier burden on other ecosystems. Other places are to be "used" to produce our goods, and if they are screwed up, well, that's too bad, it's the fault of agribusiness, and we will join the Sierra Club and force politicians to pass laws to prevent them from doing it anymore. Bullshit. Reinhabitation means to inhabit, to use, to use like the native inhabitants once did wisely and reverently, but to use. Rehabilitation should presuppose deriving some sort of land-based livelihood, or at least a more basic economic integration with your place. Otherwise the concept will become another intellectual fad or literary movement. It will have lost touch with the people doing the work. We raise sheep, and try to encourage health and diversity on our land. We still make abstract statements about how other people and corporations should or should not use their land (and such statements will continue to be very necessary), but we also do it ourselves, here, on this place. Fine, you might say, you guys sound o.k., but its your ranching neighbors we are concerned about. Well, these ranchers are hardworking, knowledgeable, pragmatic, conscientious, and skilled people who, in their own way, care a great deal about their land, their place. They pride themselves on producing quality livestock. They care. There are not many people in our society of whom one could say the same. They also do some dumb and damnable things, but so dowe all. If we are to actually begin applying ecological principles to our lives, then we must recognize that the pri me lesson of ecology is that health is roughly equivalent to diversity. To get rid of sheepranchers would be to decrease ecosystem diversity, and by ecosystem I mean the whole system of coyotes, lichen, redwoods, woodpeckers, and people, complete with their potent wishes, dreams, goals, and desires . To deprive this culturaUbiological ecosystem of sheepranchers may be as disastrous as losing coyotes. This is not to defend the destructive practices of these ranchers. But rather than trying to rid ourselves of the ranchers maybe we should concentrate on these practices and find ways to raise sheep in a healthy fashion . Maybe we should try to talk with these ranchers and show them how they are destroying the land they love, how it is the economic system and not the coyote that is their main worry, and show them actual means of dealing with coyotes (and other land use problems) that allow them to produce sheep while at the same time promoting health on their land. Controlling the ranchers' abuses could come from on high via government fiat, but another thrust of centralized power is neither necessary nor desirable. Instead we need to reopen channels of dialogue-not simply a dogmatic, theoretical dialogue, but one based on actual experience laced with practical suggestions and language. The need for example is especially strong ; we have found it very difficult to get ranchers to listen to just talk, especially talk having to do with the words "environment' or "ecology." We are not naive enough to believe our dialogue will cause our neighbor or any rancher to change his mind or practices overnight. The change will be slow, and it will be aided by the continued pressure of nasty environmentalists. If nothing else, we leave the dialogue open and offer practical suggestions. It is our belief that the earth (at least as represented in our local ecosystems) is resilient enough to allow the deaths of a few more predators and some more overgrazing in the hope that in the longer run new practices and options can evolve. It leaves the future open to options for a healthy, used place, a place that provides room for ranchers, conservationists, sheep, and coyotes. Being forced to deal with coyotes has taught us a great deal, and will no doubt teach us more. It has particularly made us look again at where we live- its biology, physical components, history, culture, place in the larger biological1sociological system, and people. It has made us grapple with the concepts of use, preservation, health, and need. The coyote, the shape changer, is an apt metaphor for these lessons. In the Indian collections of Coyote tales, sometimes the coyote is portrayed as good, sometimes bad, sometimes intelligent, sometimes dumb-just like the rest of us. And bad and good are relative, changing; the only true fear, true danger, is statis. Yet the coyote is more that an interesting or pretty metaphor. She is a concrete animal, too often the easy friend of those with nothing to lose and the declared foe of those who do. She is a very real animal with tangible habits and with whom real people must contend. Decisions regarding the coyote involve a blend of conscious and unconscious reactions to the real and supposed manifestations of an animal who does particular things in specific times and places. These decisions involve our thoughts, feelings, and desires as well as more abstract matters of ecology, economics, politics, and ethics. Our minds and ecosystem truly are connected. To see the coyote as an actual animal in a place and deal With her so, not as a generalization or symbol, can lead to a greater understanding of our place and our role in it. The coyote/sheep question is a process. It can be viewed as another skirmish in the ecological debate, or as an invitation to participate. 00 Reprinted with permission from ruralamerica Feb/Mar '81, $10/ yr. from: Rural America, Inc., 1346 Connecticut Ave. NW, Washington , DC 20036
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy NTc4NTAz