Bridge Project: Stage 1

First off, I have to apologize--these blog posts probably won't be very exciting. When I get all nerded up it's hard to stop me. I'll try to throw in an interesting picture or two to shake things up.

For example.

Anyway: I get the impression that no one has tried to do a Wildlife Senior Thesis at my wonderful university this century, since no one seems quite sure what the guidelines are. I'm not sure if this is terrifying or reassuring, because we can all screw up together.

However, I can say that the faculty has been wonderful and supportive. I have begged help from university affiliates who aren't even paid professors, and they have gracefully agreed to give up their time for me. I intend to figure out the favorite cookie/food item of every person who helps me out and deliver them before this is all over.

In all seriousness, it is wonderful and surprising that people in my chosen field are such willing mentors. I hope I am in a position to do the same one day, and that I remember how much I was given.

That being said, I am certainly at the bottom of the slope of effort concerning this project.

The Mountain of Responsibility!

Meaning, all the work lies ahead of me now. Is it sick that I am a little excited about that? I like work, I really do. (Contrary to what I'll tell you if I have to wake up early).

When I first discovered that caving was a thing that actually happened in Montana (yes, this was less than a year ago. . . ) I went to the library and whiled away an entire afternoon buried in books about caving. I was supposed to be studying for an exam, but, y'know. . . For the rest of the semester, I kept a old black book, Caves of Montana, at my bedside. I stayed up late and made meticulous sticky-notes throughout the book. Here was a cave I wanted to visit one day, or here was a cave that had been lost--maybe I could find it?

Second example: when the first tundra wildflowers began popping up during my summer in Barrow, my excitement grew to a level of obsession. Armed with a semester's worth of plant study, I embarked to identify and know every species of plant I saw on the tundra. For two months, I obsessively photographed, catalogued, and fell in love with every flower and willow I saw. After my real work was done for the day, I retreated to work on a 55-slide powerpoint with the taxonomy of every plant.

You rare beauty, Mare's Tail. . .

I repeated their Latin names to myself until I memorized them. Devoted myself to studying them as I have never in my life devoted myself to schoolwork.

Should this come off as bragging, I would remind you that I've never been able to summon this depth of fascination and focus on things that I am supposed to be doing--just my own side, pet projects.

Which is why I hope to summon this nearly insane-level devotion for the Bridge Project. I will do whatever it takes. Stay up however many nights I need, spend many lonely hours collecting data solo this summer. I want to do this, and I want to make it work.

You see, I'm not a born scientist. Not a logical, ordered thinker. I have always been more of a dreamer type. But every so often, something fires me up like Arctic plants, and I think, maybe I do belong here. Maybe I could actually contribute something worthwhile.

I am not naturally skilled, exceptionally smart or talented. But dammit, I can make up for that with sheer, overwhelming drive. . . I hope.

Wish me luck.

--Ellen

The Wild Life

The world is an awfully big place. But you don't realize this, really, until you start to study its components. Specifically, until you're paying thousands of dollars to study them. (Welcome to wildlife biology).

There's only one life to live that we know of, so at some point you are going to have to make a choice. There isn't enough time to study them all.

Z

The fishes. . .

The birdies. . .

Or the beasts, and that's just to start. There are further divisions from there, of course.

Do you want to spend much of your time on foot, sweatily hiking through the undergrowth and waiting for a mountain lion to rip your throat out? Would you prefer spending your time on the rivers? Or staring at blurry bird-shapes through binoculars for hours on end?

These are questions that college doesn't really teach you to raise. Nor will your classes teach you the answer. The only answer is in getting your feet on the ground, sweating in the underbrush, and squinting at bird shapes for hours on end. If you hate it, awesome, you can cross that off your list. But if you love it so much that you are hooked forever. . .

Then you're pretty much fucked. Sorry.

Forget about it!!

Because you love the fish, and the birds, and those little green things that you're trampling on. Everything has its own beauty and logic to it, all pieces to that gigantic incredible puzzle that is the world.

You have absolutely no chance of understanding even a tiny corner of it in your lifetime. But it's alright. . . you can die trying.

And this gull will sneer at you for your efforts.

School what?

It probably seems as if I don't do a whole lot of schoolwork what with all this adventuring going on, so I'd like to state for the record that that isn't the case. To all appearances I goofed off a lot this past weekend, but in reality was hard at work.

Photographing plants is exhausting. (Viola nuttalli)

It might appear from my numerous photographs that I was just on a fun jaunt looking at pretty flowers, when in reality. . . okay, it was a fun jaunt with flowers, but it was also homework!

Lupinus!

This semester I am taking Rocky Mountain Flora, my first real wildlife class. It is an encouraging sign of things to come that while it is challenging, I also enjoy it a lot. Surprising considering I never gave much notice to plants before, but now I'm totally nerding out on them.

The plant world might seem staid and boring--after all, they don't run around hooking each other with giant horns like some game animals are wont to do. They are easily trampled underfoot without uttering a squeak of discomfort or protest.

And yet, silently, plants are at war with one another. War, incest, sometimes even SELF-incest (that's a new one. . .), murder, and genocide ensues wherever there are plants.

In short, plants are pretty badass.

If you don't immediately believe me, remember that there are such plants as Venus Flytraps out there in the world that snap up and digest prey with their juices. And those "pretty" petals on that lupine up there are really a siren song designed to call insects away from other plants and toward itself instead. Don't fool yourself--every plant you see is risking its life to stake out the best possible territory to survive and pass on offspring. A meadow of flowers is more like a battleground, and your prancing through it aimlessly is altering the outcome of those battles. (So, watch your step.)

MURDER DAISIES!

Sometimes--by which I mean a lot of times--seeking a career in wildlife biology is a bit discouraging. It is a lot of hard work for very little payoff. But sometimes, it is also awesome, and the only place I can imagine myself being. It is a career I pursue, definitely not for the money, but purely because of my own personal motivation and love of all things wild (animal or not).

There is something to be said for that.