The Baltimore Tree Trust has designed the TreeKeepers program to train and certify interested city residents in certain aspects of tree care. After completion of a series of classes, hands-on training, and tree planting workdays, TreeKeepers will be permitted to do minor pruning of street trees on their own block and lead small groups of volunteers for tree plantings in their neighborhoods.

Image courtesy of TreeBaltimore

Baltimore averages one tree for every six residents, which is about half the number of trees per capita as in most other large cities. About 4% of our trees are lost annually to destruction, natural decline, and removal. In order to reach the goals of Tree Baltimore, the City’s plan for increasing the tree canopy from 27% to 40% by the year 2040, at least 25,000 trees must be established annually. In reality, actual planting rates fall short– the combined efforts of organizations working towards this goal within the city limits plant less than 10,000 trees per year. They need help and they’re turning towards citizens that are passionate about trees, empowering them to be partners through the TreeKeepers program.

TreeKeepers 101 provided a broad overview of trees in Baltimore’s urban landscape. As a shameless tree-hugger with a deep appreciation for the value of education, I was ecstatic to have the opportunity to learn about my city and the agencies and organizations that are working to make it greener, and how I can help. Maybe most important, it was energizing to be in a room filled with people who are passionate about the same issues that resonate with me.

TreeKeepers 101 will be offered again this summer, dates TBD. For more information on the TreeKeepers program, check out the Baltimore Tree Trust website.  Washington, DC has a similar program (Citizen Forester) run by Casey Trees. Stay tuned for my report on TreeKeepers 102: Science of Trees – coming soon to a blog near you!

Graphic from HarperCollins Publishers

The monarchs have never come to these parts, but a natural disaster has destroyed their winter habitat in Mexico, and the butterflies appear in November in the Volunteer State — the implication being it’s warm enough there to host them, even though it’s almost winter.

The butterflies disrupt life in the quiet town. Dellarobia’s in-debt father-in-law wants to sell the mountain land to a logging company, but others want to preserve it and charge money to tourists to see the monarch colony. Media outlets interview Dellarobia, who becomes a reluctant mini-celebrity for having her butterfly “vision” — but some feel it goes to her head.

Then a lepidopterist from a New Mexico university comes to study the butterflies. Soon, the Turnbow barn gets converted to a lab and Dellarobia works part-time for the scientist, along with his graduate students, in an effort to uncover what’s going on with the monarchs.

Kingsolver calls “Flight Behavior,” which was published in fall 2012, “a fictional story within a plausible biological framework.” It’s an enjoyable tale with a witty, worrying main character who elicits our sympathy. Kingsolver’s vivid prose and ease at weaving this tale make it a fun, compelling read, one that provides insight to the worlds of science and rural America.

Those interested in science will enjoy the detailed scenes in the field counting and observing butterflies, or in the lab conducting lipid extraction experiments and parasite counts. Some parts are like “CSI” or “Bones,” but with butterflies rather than dead bodies and poetic passages rather than worn clichés.

Back in the real world, the New York Times recently reported monarch numbers in their Mexican wintering grounds have declined for the last seven or eight years. The amount of territory they cover in winter shrunk 59 percent from 2011 to 2012, due to the impacts of drought and record-breaking heat. (The Yale Environmental 360 blog recently published an interview with University of Kansas insect ecologist Orley Taylor, too.) It seems “Flight Behavior” is a case of fiction underscoring truth.

Dan Kulpinski will graduate with an M.S. Environmental Sciences and Policy degree in May 2013.

(Creative Commons image “Monarch Butterfly [Norristown Farm Park],” courtesy of stinkenroboter via Flickr. Video from HarperCollins Publishers.)

The ooid sand flats at Joulters Cays seem to stretch on forever. (Photo by Dan Kulpinski)

But first, why it’s as good as it sounds: The course consists of a week of online units and a week in The Bahamas. From the field station on Andros Island, we took a small boat to many small islands or cays (pronounced “keys”); saw one of two places in the world where ooid sand forms; explored Captain Morgan’s Cave (no rum present); snorkeled and saw lots of coral reefs and fish, including lionfish (an invasive species); saw mangroves and swam in blue holes (Andros has the most blue holes in the world — 178 on land and more than 50 in the ocean). Oh, and we had great weather — sunny, with temperatures in the high 70s.

We saw evidence of higher sea levels in past millennia, walked over lithified sand dunes, and saw carbonate crusts being formed on rocks in the intertidal zone. Schubel calls the area “the carbonate factory,” and after a week I did get a sense of how the geology there works and how it created what we see today.

Andros Island (just left of center) is the largest in The Bahamas. (Image from travel.state.gov)

It was a treat to snorkel and be able to see coral reefs, not only because they are beautiful and colorful, but also because they’re fragile environmental indicators, vulnerable to the changing climate, ocean acidification, pollution and other — mostly human-caused — impacts. Seeing them made the reefs’ predicament more real for me.

The class was a blast — and a great learning experience. So how did this amazing field course come about? Schubel, who has taught the Bahamas course for six years and hopes to offer it again in 2014, explained.

Q: How did you get the idea for the Bahamas class? Had you been down there before?

A: “Susie Creamer, who is a graduate of the program and has been the TA for the course since it began, came to me and said that she thought the program needed an international component. She challenged me to come up with a class. I had taught an undergraduate course in the Bahamas a number of times in the past. I knew the island well and it made it easy to put together a course for JHU students.”

Q: What’s your favorite part of teaching the class?

A: “I love being out in the field with students. We can read about and discuss topics, but there is nothing like seeing things first-hand. That is when the magic happens. That’s when things may suddenly all make sense. Andros Island is a large island by Bahamian standards. There are so many different carbonate sedimentary environments (coral reefs, sandy tidal flats, muddy tidal flats, ooid sand shoals, etc) and karst features represented. It’s the best place I know to get a comprehensive overview of all of these settings.”

Q: What would you tell students who are hesitant to sign up because they’ve never been snorkeling before?

A: “Not to worry. If you can swim I can teach you to snorkel. Snorkeling is really just swimming for lazy people. It doesn’t require a  whole lot of physical exertion. If you have a wetsuit on you’ll be nice and buoyant and then it’s a matter of kicking a bit. Your arms are largely just along for the ride.”

Dan Kulpinski still considers himself a beginning snorkeler. He will graduate from the M.S. Environmental Sciences & Policy program in May.