Postcard from high in the Andes Cordillera of southern Ecuador, three degrees south of the equator: “The stakes are high for conservation, indigenous peoples, and sustainable development in this small but oil- and mineral-rich Andean country….And, restoration is starting to hit the scene.”

James Aronson, series editor of the Science and Practice of Ecological Restoration book series is traveling with colleagues from the Missouri Botanical Garden to set up long-term research, training, and demonstration projects in ecological restoration and restoring natural capital. James goes on to say, “There’s a very promising conjunction of a new government, conservation and eco-activist organizations, and indigenous communities in Ecuador right now that makes it seem the best possible place for us to work.”

On Saturday, Andy Clewell will join James in Gualceo to give a workshop to community members. Andy and James co-authored Ecological Restoration: Principles, Values, and Structure of an Emerging Profession, a foundation volume in the SER book series, which has been a sought-after guide for people just beginning to practice this exciting work.

Andy and James are also founders of the RNC Alliance, an international network of individuals and organizations that offer locally appropriate solutions to resolve environmental and economic development problems simultaneously.

As I’m sure James and Andy will illustrate next weekend, well-planned projects in restoring natural capital offer multiple benefits: not only jobs now for people who need work but also repair of environmental damage for a healthy and more prosperous future.

For example, the Working for Water Project (WfW) in South Africa, one of nineteen case studies in Restoring Natural Capital: Science, Business, and Practice, edited by James Aronson, Suzanne J. Milton, and James N. Blignaut, is a government-sponsored program to remove invasive trees and shrubs that pose a direct threat to biodiversity and water security. Since 1995, WfW has cleared more than one million hectares of invasive plants and provided training and employment for more than twenty thousand people from among the most impoverished communities of the country.

If you would like to sample these books and thirteen others, click here for a free download of the SER Restoration Reader.

On May 1, eleven conservation groups filed suit in Arizona federal court asking the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (FWS) to reclaim leadership for the Mexican wolf reintroduction effort rather than shifting the management to an oversight committee. With only fifty-two Mexican gray wolves remaining in the wild, far below FWS’s goal of one hundred by 2006, the organizations argue that wolf conservation should be a priority.

On the same day, David Perlman’s front-page article in the San Francisco Chronicle reported on a new study that offers evidence for the importance of wolves—and other large predators—in the landscape. Oregon State University researchers William Ripple and Robert Beschta examined what happened in Yosemite National Park as populations of mountain lions declined. They found that as cougars disappeared, the numbers of mule deer increased, which in turn meant more browsing of black oak seedlings. Eventually, as black oaks were replaced by pines and firs, the entire ecology of the area changed.

Scientists call this ecosystem-wide chain reaction to the loss of a large predator a trophic cascade. The theory is controversial and still being fleshed out with research around the world, but I find it fascinating: tangible evidence of the intricate complexity and interdependence of wild nature.

Still, I’ll confess that trophic cascades are not the first thing that pops into my mind when I think “mountain lion.” Instead, I envision the fluid grace, the long tail, the “charisma” of the big cat. Although I live in mountain lion territory, it was seventeen years before I first saw the local large predator in the flesh. When that finally happened—when a big cat loped casually behind my house on a Sunday morning in February—my slightly romantic mental image gave way to the real animal, whose breathtaking presence in my home landscape continues to evoke not only awe but also humility.

If you would like to read an excerpt from Michael Morrison’s Wildlife Restoration: Techniques for Habitat Analysis and Animal Monitoring (as well as samples of fourteen other books in the SER series), click here for a free download of the SER Restoration Reader.

The season is turning here in northern California. Although the hills are still colorful and fragrant with spring wildflowers, when I glance below the level of the blooms, I see that the meadow is drying out, from the ground up. In a few more weeks, the green grasses will become golden…and we will start to scrutinize the neighborhood flora for the first evidence of our local invasive species, yellow star thistle.

Star thistle is an affliction that has taken over this landscape while I watched. In 1971, when I moved to this land, there were no spiny yellow flowers in the summer meadows. Although the plant (native to southern Europe) first appeared in California during the 1800s, it wasn’t until the mid-1980s that we realized we had a problem here.

Yellow star thistle grows fast, crowds out other species, and can quickly form nearly impenetrable thickets. Deep taproots deplete soil moisture reserves (a real problem in drought-prone California). It is estimated that star thistle now affects fifteen million acres in this state.

Around the world, invasive species are recognized as a major cause of the alarming decline in biodiversity. Understanding and solving the ecological problems created by invasives is one of many areas where ecological theory and restoration ecology often cross-fertilize for mutual benefit. For example, restorationists need ecological theory—population models, succession theory, life-history traits—to design effective strategies for restoring landscapes altered by invasive species. Restoration projects, in turn, can provide a valuable laboratory for ecologists studying disturbance theory.

Foundations of Restoration Ecology, one of the foundation volumes in our SER series, explores this powerful integration of ecological theory and practice in many different contexts. For a sample of this seminal book, along with fourteen others in the SER series, you can download the free SER Restoration Reader here.

Back on this land that I love, the restoration part of our effort to rid the land of yellow star thistle is still in the experimental stage (see the native plant post last week). But after more than a decade of labor-intensive effort, we are doing pretty well keeping the star thistle in check, with a strategic combination of hand-pulling, weed-whacking, and mowing. So, we are armed and ready to do battle when this summer’s volunteers show their sprouts. Bring them on!

Rivers around the globe are in trouble, largely because of human activities. I’m thankful that one of my favorite places, the north fork of the Eel river in northern California (see image below), which is not far from my home office, is designated as a federal “wild and scenic river.” That means no dams or other diversions and also that the Eel benefits from a comprehensive management plan.

Most rivers aren’t so lucky, which is why river restoration is at the top of the agenda for river managers, according to Bart Fokkens of European Centre of River Restoration, which hosts an international conference in Venice this June.

Next month, the SER series tackles river restoration head-on. River Futures: An Integrative Scientific Approach to River Repair, edited by Gary Brierley and Kirstie Fryirs, is not only a seminal contribution to river rehabilitation, but also an illustration of new approaches within the rapidly growing field of restoration.

Many restoration projects include an intriguing element of discovery, with practitioners following clues from tree rings, packrat middens, and historical soil surveys to figure out what happened to a particular landscape in an effort to help it come back to life. The Historical Ecology Handbook, edited by Dave Egan and Evelyn Howell, offers a fascinating compilation of these techniques.

In other situations, though, it is simply not possible or even advisable to replicate a historical condition. In River Futures, Brierley and Fryirs emphasize the importance of having a future focus for river repair; instead of examining the past, they recommend a cross-disciplinary process to envision future goals that will link what is biophysically achievable with what is socially acceptable.

For a sneak preview of River Futures and a sample of The Historical Ecology Handbook, along with thirteen other restoration books, we invite you to download the free SER Restoration Reader—and share it with your friends.

Ecological restoration is an increasingly important part of the discussion among all of us who are concerned about the global environment. There is a steady stream of news about restoration initiatives around the world— an inspiring groundswell of interest in the possibilities that restoration can offer.

In June, for example, the Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew will host a workshop for Kew staff and invited experts, including representatives of Society of Ecological Restoration International, to consider its future role in the science supporting ecological restoration. In the United States, Missouri Botanical Garden and New York Botanical Garden are undertaking similar efforts to develop restoration work within their programs.

I see these developments as not only a measure of progress within the field of restoration but also a clear sign of how the world has changed in the twenty years since we began working with the restoration community. In those early days, expert reviewers sometimes worried that if people knew ecological restoration was possible, they might relax their efforts to avoid damage in the first place. In other words, would effective restoration techniques conflict with urgent efforts to conserve and protect threatened habitat?

Twenty years later, those questions have disappeared—swallowed up by the overwhelming global realities of climate change, loss of biodiversity, desertification. We know now that conservation and restoration must be partners going forward. As Jim Harris, chair of SER’s Science and Policy Working Group, says, “Protecting what we have is still important, but no longer sufficient.” Since ecological restoration not only builds resilience into ecosystems but also emphasizes adaptive management in the face of uncertainty, its insights are particularly well-suited to the world we face.

Interested in learning more? One of the contributions of botanical gardens is discussed in Ex Situ Plant Conservation: Supporting Species Survival in the Wild, edited by Edward O. Guerrant Jr., Kayri Havens, and Mike Maunder. You can download a free excerpt of this book and others in the SER series in the SER Restoration Reader.

James Aronson, the series editor for our book series “The Science and Practice of Ecological Restoration,” lives and works in Montpellier, France, but visited New York City last week. He spent part of his visit admiring one of the city’s biggest restoration success stories:

“Just back from my two walks across the gloriously revitalized Central Park.

It’s springtime, and the cherries, magnolias, and oaks are all in full bloom. Did you know that there are more than 26,000 trees in Central Park, and that now it is an absolutely delightful place to spend part of the day?

In the early 1970s, when I lived here as a student, the park was a mess, and dangerous, especially after dark. You jogged or bicycled through at top speed, and avoided it altogether after 5 p.m., unless you were specifically looking for trouble or adventure.

Then, in 1980, the Central Park Conservancy got going. Twenty million US dollars later (from private and corporate donations from thousands of citizens and a few big city banks), and with 3,000 volunteers currently at work, Central Park has arisen like an urban green phoenix. It is now managed brilliantly, cherished by one and all, and is inspiring to millions more around the world.

Restoration is a big part of the story.

Herons, egrets, peregrine falcons, turtles, newts, and salamanders in the bosom of New York City? Yeah, why not? Spreading patches of may apples, vernal witch hazel, bush and various bushy, native northeastern North American ferns? Sure. All of this and more you can find in Central Park today thanks to this heavily endowed—with love and money—inner city restoration program.”

On Monday, James reports on his meeting at the New York Botanical Garden about the future role of botanical gardens in the science and practice of ecological restoration. . . . So, stay tuned, and in the meantime, take some time this weekend to enjoy the beautiful spring.

In last Friday’s Washington Post, William Booth recognized Arbor Day by pointing out the “brutal reality” that “planting a tree is a lot harder than it looks.” Booth’s story, about tree-planting programs in major cities across the country, is a forthright look at the challenges of planting millions of trees in metropolitan areas. Eye-opening, sobering, and also (I thought) inspiring.

What caught my attention was the “harder than it looks” phrase. So true—and that applies to other restoration projects as well. Here in the Coast Ranges of northern California where I live, most of the native perennial grasses have long since been displaced by aggressive annuals introduced along with cattle in the sixteenth century. For many ecological and aesthetic reasons, we decided to try to reestablish perennials on our ranch, starting conservatively with a half-acre of the main meadow. We did background research, consulted with experts, selected native species that should grow well in this area, prepared the site (by burning, following the practice of Native Americans in these hills) during the right season, and experimented with several different planting techniques. Year one results: many happy well-fed birds and a few lonely seedlings.

The good news is that the science and practice of ecological restoration are fast coming of age, which means that there are more and more resources available for people at all levels of expertise. The Society of Ecological Restoration International (SER) was formed in 1988; the organization now has more than 2,300 members in thirty-seven countries. In addition to its informative website for members, SER hosts the Global Restoration Network, a comprehensive web-based information source available to everyone anywhere with Internet access. There are two well-established journals for the field—Ecological Restoration and Restoration Ecology—that publish a steadily growing list of excellent papers and reviews. And the restoration bookshelf is beginning to fill up, including our series (in cooperation with SER), which will have fifteen titles in print by June. The SER Restoration Reader is a free download of excerpts from all fifteen books, to give readers a sample of the impressive breadth and depth of the field.

The thing about restoration is that it offers us all a way to do something positive (and personal) to repair ecological damage. It offers hope. True, it’s not easy. But the rewards of the hard, challenging, creative work of learning the science of how the natural world works and putting that knowledge into practice are unbeatable. What inspired me about William Booth’s story is the commitment of the tree planters to solve the problems and nurture healthy trees in the urban ground. Likewise, here at home, we are re-planning our native grass project. Because the bottom line is that, with good science and careful planning (and re-planning), restoration works.

Here in lovely northern California, where I work from a home office, the poppies are finally in bloom, scattering their cheerful yellow flowers generously across the main meadow. These days, the path to the mailbox is a festival of color, as poppies mingle with deep purple lupines, pale yellow buttercups, and new green grass just forming its seed. Permeating the air is the sweet fragrance of the white popcorn flowers—the essence of spring in this part of the Coast Range.

In the tiny town of Covelo, less than twenty miles away as the crow flies and four hundred feet closer to sea level, the poppies are not yellow but rather bright orange. What explains the difference in color, I wonder (and have wondered for years): Different soil? Lower elevation? Slight genetic variation in the species?

These are the kinds of questions that intrigue me—and why I find wild nature endlessly fascinating. Although natural history has generally dropped out of the curriculum in this century, everyone whose work involves place-based conservation and restoration projects knows how valuable this information is.

That’s one reason why working with authors in our book series on restoration (in cooperation with Society for Ecological Restoration International) is so satisfying. The fast-growing field of ecological restoration has been shaped, in part, by practitioners, whose technical knowledge combines long, hands-on experience with sound science. One of the goals for the series is to share that rare practitioner knowledge—such as David Bainbridge’s techniques for repairing degraded arid lands—with people working on similar projects around the globe.

If you want a sample of the series, take a look in the SER Restoration Reader, a free download that includes excerpts of all fifteen titles to date.