Eleanor Mclellan rscj Photo: Betty Shearman rscj Photo: Betty Shearman rscj Photo: Betty Shearman rscj

I have always loved the "out of doors". Ever since I was a small child I would rather be outside than in, even in the worst of weather. As I grew older I hadthe privilege of traveling to many beautiful places from the East to the West coasts and even to the Alps in Italy and Switzerland. I have climbed, backpacked and skied in the mountains and spent many summers swimming in the ocean off Cape Cod. God speaks to me through the beauty of nature and when I saw that beauty being destroyed, ugly oil rigs off the coast of California, meadows paved over for parking lots, rivers dammed up and diverted, I felt a great sadness.

That is what first got me interested in the environmental movement. I joined many different environmental groups and advocated through them for preservation of the vastness and beauty of nature which I so loved. Through these organizations I became more aware of the other creatures with whom we share the earth and how our greed was destroying their habitats. This became a growing concern. In the early '80s I came in contact with the work of Thomas Berry, a Passionist priest who calls himself a Geologian. Following Teilhard de Chardin, he speaks of the Cosmos as the revelation of God. Each creature is a unique expression of it's Creator and one is not more important than the other.  We are one body - all of us - animal, mineral, reptile, insect, person. All reflect something of God and all depend on one another. Were it not for insects, we would not exist!
 
I currently work at Drumlin farm, a Massachusetts Audubon Sanctuary, where I teach children about organic farming and take them on nature walks looking for birds, insects, wild flowers or seeds. Through this work I try to instill respect for these other beings and to stress our oneness with them. The following story, written several years ago exemplifies my work:

It was with reluctance that I travelled to 91st Street (School of the Sacred Heart in New York City, USA) in the '60s to accept my teaching assignment. I am a country person and the thought of life in the city did not attract me.  However, what I discovered there was a warm and loving community whose members welcomed, valued and loved each person with whom they came in contact. I learned there to appreciate the value of community and this motivated me to look for it wherever I went. In my present work, I have experienced a unique and viable community which extends beyond the human. 

Recently, while finishing up a program for 3 and 4 year olds at Drumlin Farm with our resident Rouen duck, we heard a loud quacking out on the pond. We hurried outside only to see one lone silent mallard swimming across the surface of the water. Where was the quacking coming from? It got louder and louder but there was only this one lone silent duck in sight. As we looked we noticed hundreds of little heads peering from the surface. As we came closer and made out the outlines of the bodies, we saw that they were frogs, quacking away in chorus, sounding for all the world
like ducks!

Wood frogs quack like ducks, but only in the springtime when they enter the water to call for their mates. Most of their lives are spent in woods near ponds. In the Spring however the females join the males in the pond, mate, and lay their eggs in gelatinous masses consisting of up to 1,500 individual eggs, attached to vegetation at or near the water's surface. Wood frogs depend on vernal ponds, seasonal wetlands, aquatic for part of a year or years, and terrestrial for the rest.

Vernal ponds are low areas that fill with water from snowmelt and spring rains, rising groundwater tables, or flooding from nearby streams. They usually reach their peak in Spring (hence the term "vernal"), and then shrink in size, often, but not always, drying up by late fall.  These ponds are unique habitats for unique wildlife.  A variety of species have adapted to the seasonal flooding and drying and are able to benefit from the abundance of food and lack of fish predation in these ponds.  As the dry ponds fill, bacteria and fungi  begin to break down plant material grown in the formerly dry bottoms. Eggs of worms, fairy shrimp, mollusks, crustaceans and other species that have been left behind or were laid on the pool bottom when it was dry, hatch,  and begin to feed on this plant material.  These, in turn provide food for the wood frogs, mole salamanders and other species
that migrate to the pond to lay their eggs. Tadpoles and salamander larvae provide food for dragonfly nymphs, diving beetle larvae and other aquatic
insects, which upon emergence as adults migrate onto land and provide food for birds and bats.  Some of these insects, such as dragonflies, also contribute to the ecosystem as predators on midges and mosquitoes. A majority of amphibians use vernal ponds, as well as painted and snapping turtles. Spotted turtles depend on them.  Vernal ponds also store floodwaters and recharge groundwater but their most important function is to provide habitat for a wide variety of wildlife.

As I studied this tiny, but significant ecosystem I realized that this was another highly functional community of which I was a part. These creatures are at the very bottom of our food chain. They are an integral part of the web of life. In their very existence they show forth something of God, their Creator, and the world would be poorer were they to be destroyed. This destruction is a real possibility, however.

Vernal ponds are fast disappearing. Most are too small to be covered under any Wetlands Protection Act, and developers think nothing of filling in
indentations in the ground. Many of our cities are partially built on landfill and certainly many of these temporary ponds were destroyed in the process.
Why should we care?  I care because I believe that every creature has a right to exist, to live out its life according to its nature, and to make its contribution to the ecosystem. Every part is essential to the whole and no part can be destroyed without affecting the whole. The following words, attributed to Chief Seattle*, express a profound truth:

Selling the Land

How can you buy or sell the sky, the land? The idea is strange to us. If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them?

Every part of this earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every humming insect. All are holy in the memory and experience of my people...We are part of the earth and it is part of us. The perfumed flowers are our sisters. The bear, the deer, the great eagle, these are our brothers. The rocky crests, the juices in the meadow, the body heat of the pony, and man (sic.), all belong to the same family....

This we know: the earth does not belong to man, man belongs to the earth. All things are connected like the blood that unites us all. Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web he does to himself.   One thing we know: our God is also your God. The earth is
precious to him and to harm the earth is to heap contempt on its Creator.  (Sanctuary Magazine, Jan. 1990, p. 16)

Thomas Berry, a Passionist priest who founded the Riverdale Center in Riverdale, New York, which is devoted to the study of a viable presence of the human on the earth, describes community as comprising all of creation. Community is embedded into creation. The entire universe, from the largest galaxies to the smallest cells, functions in relationship.  Oxygen and hydrogen molecules attract one another to form water. Rain and sun, heat and cold wind and water currents work together to provide a healthy living environment. Bees in a hive depend on each individual to perform its function for the preservation of the whole. The same is true for ants and possibly many other insects. Many animals live in herds. Everywhere we look we can find models of viable communities being lived out in the natural world.

We do not yet know  enough about ecosystems to be able to pinpoint the importance of every little creature. But every little creature is important. Each has a valuable contribution to make and each deserves our respect. Moreover, each reveals something of the Creator. God speaks to us through all that is, the smallest as well as the greatest. We have only to listen and to attend.

Wood frogs have a right to their vernal pools, and little children have a right to be able to hear them. In destroying the little things of nature we are short-changing ourselves. Rondall Snodgrass, executive director of Sanctuary Forest, a group formed to buy and preserve old growth near Whitethorn, in California's coastal mountains, has made this point well in the latest edition of the pamphlet Sanctuary Forest . He writes:

As the deep and comforting quiet of the stately forest is home to many plants, animals and birds, it is also a refuge for our human spirit. We can be lifted from fears, doubts, even self pity by a simple walk among the trees. Merely a photograph of a forest filled vista can give us a sense of  peace and belonging. Knowing that huge fish dash unseen through dark night waters, or powerful mountain lions are close by is thrilling and awe inspiring. The mystery of microscopic millions of life forms working, burrowing, multiplying in the deep duff of fallen needles and leaves excites our imagination. The myriad forms of life so beautifully interwoven have repeatedly given us not just a concept of ecology, but also a prayerful pause of deep connection and appreciation.

Let us together, value and support our wider community.

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