Water Is Life for Conservation in the West
Ask any conservationist, and they’ll agree on at least one thing: in nature, everything is connected. Whether focusing on fire management, bear population monitoring, human recreation, or the tiniest microbialites in Great Salt Lake, they know that pulling on one thread in the landscape brings all kinds of connected species, processes, and habitats with it.
Despite the complexity of this interconnectedness, one vibrant thread is perhaps easier to pick out than others as a connector: water.
Water Is Life
Water is crucial everywhere, but in the western U.S. where we do most of our work, it shines even brighter against a thirsty landscape. Here, the phrase “water is life” connects diverse groups of people. Farmers depend on water to grow food, birders flock to wetlands and rivers to spot their favorite species, and all of us are faced with the constant reality of climate change, wildfire, and prolonged drought.
“Water is more than just something we drink,” says Stream Ecologist Dr. Rose Smith. “It’s home for many creatures, it exists for all plant life, and it connects all things.”
Our work with Swaner Preserve and Ecocenter is one place we’ve seen the cascading impacts of working to heal water in an ecosystem. After our volunteers built simple restoration structures in the stream at the site, our scientists watched as the land began to breathe. “Since the beaver dam analogs went in, we’ve already seen milkweed popping up on the banks,” says Conservation Ecologist Janice Gardner. “And we’ve seen monarchs return to the site! It’s incredible to see those rare butterflies there, like bright orange sparks celebrating a healing stream.”
And in streams where our team and volunteers have supported the return of beaver, amphibians have re-appeared. Utah’s Hogle Zoo, for example, installed beaver dam analogs and recently was thrilled to see boreal toads. This is critical at a time when multiple amphibian species are struggling with threats from development to a deadly fungus that is spreading through populations like wildfire.
“Even beyond our riverscape restoration work, water is the main character in everything we do,” says Smith. “From snowpack for rosy-finches to pollinator habitat to food for shorebirds at Great Salt Lake, all of it depends on water.”
White Gold in the Alpine
Snow and the habitats and processes it supports are critical to all kinds of wildlife scattered in the highest elevations in the West.
“For me,” says Conservation Ecologist Dr. Mary Pendergast, “I think a lot about how without water, alpine amphibians like boreal toads can’t breed since tadpoles and eggs don’t have a place to develop. If the footprint of water recedes before tadpoles develop, you won’t see offspring. Their entire lives depend on water.”
North America’s most mysterious birds, rosy-finches, also rely on high mountain moisture. “The timing and amount of precipitation in the alpine is key to providing critical habitat for birds like the rosy-finch,” says Gardner, “and is important in ways we’re only beginning to understand. Rosy-finches, for example, may pick insects off of snow to survive the winter.”
But changing climates throw a wrench in delicate alpine plant and insect life cycles, impacting what kind of food is available for bats, birds, and all kinds of life. Many species have long evolved with specific climates and ecosystems, hatching at the same time as the snow melts or returning to a certain area to feed on recently-hatched prey. When environments change, some species can migrate elsewhere and find systems similar to those they need for survival. But in the high mountains, warmer climates and mismatched timing of carefully tuned systems can be dire.
“High alpine species are essentially evaporating off the peaks, and it breaks my heart,” says Pendergast. “Sure, many species and habitats can move with climate change, but alpine species are already at the top of the landscape and have nowhere else to go.”
That’s why our Boreal Toad Project and Rosy-Finch Project volunteers spend their time hiking around the mountains looking for these elusive species. They’re on a mission to help scientists map where these species are currently thriving, where they’ve disappeared from the landscape, and which habitats might support re-introduced populations in the future. This information is crucial to making a case for wildlife and land conservation in the alpine. Even in the most overwhelming times, they’re making strides for these sensitive wildlife and the high mountains they call home.
A Sparkling Road for Migrating Wildlife
“Healthy rivers, streams, and lakes provide functioning habitat for animals, plants, and humans,” says Pendergast. “It all comes down to this: everyone needs a good watering hole.” Streams provide water for big game, offer essential fawning habitat, and allow species of all kinds to hide and avoid predators.
Beyond their ability to support life, thriving riparian areas also act as natural highways for wildlife, giving species access to much-needed habitats and improving genetic diversity. Wildlife are just like humans—we all need water, and we can’t go anywhere without it. According to Gardner, “Wildlife don’t have a tap to turn on. Their homes and migrations completely revolve around where the water is.”
That’s why Utah’s Wildlife Action Plan—which identifies wildlife and places in need—focuses on aquatic habitats, and it’s why we focus on them too. “There’s a multidirectional relationship between water, wildlife, and people,” says Smith. “It’s not just about humans or wildlife having water, it’s also about water itself and how it weaves into the landscape. We need each other. All wildlife have some role in our watershed and what we drink. It’s all connected.”
To support this connectivity, our Wasatch Wildlife Watch volunteers carefully monitor wildlife cameras in the summer months, returning in the winter to analyze images from these cameras. When mapped across the landscape, this information shows where wildlife are concentrated and what barriers they face. It lays the groundwork for projects like wildlife bridges and habitat restoration, supporting thriving populations in the face of rapid development in the region.
Pollinators Love a Good Wetland
But it’s not just big game who rely on shimmering ribbons to survive. Monarchs and other pollinators seek riparian areas as well. The abundant flowering life around wet habitats provides food, cover, and places to lay eggs. “Really, water is the draw and the limiting factor for wildlife like monarchs and bumblebees,” says Gardner. “It’s the limiting factor in the West.”
In addition to our stream restoration work, which supports flourishing wetlands and pollinator plants, our Utah Pollinator Pursuit project trains an army of volunteers across Utah to identify pollinators and their preferred habitats. As they combine these large amounts of data, our scientists can help prioritize certain areas for restoration or protection. As this research is underway, our team is also excited to see pollinator gardens springing up across the West. These carefully planted areas utilize drought-tolerant native plants to support struggling species.
Large-Scale Interconnectedness: From Bear River to Great Salt Lake
Much of our work—from stream restoration to rosy-finch surveys—is upstream of Great Salt Lake. “We’d love to say that the lake is healthy and all is well as a result of the hard work in watersheds that feed Great Salt Lake,” says Communications Director Sarah Woodbury, “but as you probably know, water simply isn’t getting there.” This creates a dire situation for the millions of migratory birds who stop to feed in the lake as they migrate. Scientists predict that as soon as next year, birds stopping to replenish their fat with brine fly larvae will be met with nearly empty waters.
That’s why we launched our Wetlands and Waterbirds Project in 2021, which recently hosted its first Intermountain West Shorebird Survey. “We want to know where shorebirds are and what they need,” says Gardner. “It’s really urgent to document what we’re seeing and connect it to larger flyways. The birds need someone to speak for them now and in the coming years.” Volunteers flocked to the survey day in a chorus of support for the resilience of our winged friends.
But wildlife aren’t the only ones who notice the decline of watershed health. Humans rely on healthy waters as much as any other animal.
Upstream from Great Salt Lake, we are doing socio-ecological research on Battle Creek, a small Idaho stream that feeds into the Bear River at Wuda Ogwa, the site of the Bear River Massacre. “Our goal,” says Woodbury, who is working on the project as part of her Master’s degree, “is to learn what strategies are best for working with landowners to heal waterways and improve water quality at the site.”
This will immediately support work by the Northwestern Band of the Shoshone to restore culturally important plants and water quality at Wuda Ogwa. The Tribe is also planning to build a cultural and interpretive center at the site.
“Our work with water across the West recognizes the interbeing of all life,” says Woodbury. “You can’t remove humans from the ecosystem, or the ecosystem from humans. Water in particular has a way of telling us this truth. It seeps us into the loving embrace we’re in with the more-than-human.”
“It’s so much more than supporting what the environment can do for people,” says Pendergast. “To thrive on this planet, we need other beings to thrive as well. We need functional redundancy, multiple predators, an array of pollinators and seed dispersers, and system resilience.”
“Water is home,” says Pendergast, “It makes up all of our bodies.”
Our team is working to find solutions so that wildlife can access thriving habitats for generations to come. To support water, land, and wildlife in the West, please support our work by donating or getting involved.
Author: Sarah Woodbury