Our Most Threatened Species

by Larry Gabriel

Congress is trying to fix the Endangered Species Act (ESA), but they don't use it to protect our most important threatened species.

One hundred years ago, its population was around 30 million scattered over about 840 million acres of habitat. Today, their numbers are about one tenth that amount covering about 952 million acres.

Obviously, generalized quantity of habitat is not the answer for this declining species. The ESA provides for such considerations in its definition of "critical habitat".

The term "critical habitat" for a threatened or endangered species means-
(i) the specific areas within the geographical area occupied by the species, at the time it is listed in accordance with the provisions of section 4 of this Act, on which are found those physical or biological features (I) essential to the conservation of the species and (II) which may require special management considerations or protection; and (ii) specific areas outside the geographical area occupied by the species at the time it is listed in accordance with the provisions of section 4 of this Act, upon a determination by the Secretary that such areas are essential for the conservation of the species.

Species protected under the act "includes any subspecies of fish or wildlife or plants", but the term "wildlife" includes "any member of the animal kingdom".

Among the 3.5 million square miles of land in the United States, there is surely some land with unique physical and biological features that will support this dying population.

With a little "special management consideration" on some of the 724 million acres owned by the federal government, this population might flourish as it did in the past.

Private lands or "specific areas outside the geographical area occupied" can also be taken for critical habitat, when necessary for survival of an endangered or threatened species.

Maybe the nonprofit corporations of America are willing to part with some of their millions of acres of land for a good cause.

If the Sierra Club won't do it, perhaps it is time for some worthy organization like the Farm Bureau or the Farmers Union to file a petition for listing and bring this matter to a test.

This species is certainly a member of the animal kingdom. They are certainly a distinct population. They clearly are threatened by major long term decline and urban sprawl. Only about 10 percent of the original viable population remains on its traditional range.

Our most valuable "threatened species" is the American farmer.

Maybe the law is not too broad after all. If it can save the wolf, it should be able do the same for the guys who feeds us.

Mr. Gabriel is the South Dakota Secretary of Agriculture


The somethings of happiness

By Julie Carter

I recently read that the three grand essentials for happiness are something to do, something to love and something to hope for.

I believe those thoughts were conceived at the ranch because finding an answer to each requires only being there.

Something to do. There is never ever not something to do. From daylight to dark and beyond, 24/7, there is something to do.

Something to do can come in large packages like spending a week gathering cattle, sorting, preg testing and shipping and feeding meals to all those people who come to help.

Pulling a well, building five miles of new fence, clearing brush for a new water storage tank you have yet to build, or finding time to mechanic on the line up of "injured" vehicles at the shop.

Something to do can come in small packages like making up another pot of coffee because the neighbor just drove in the yard and will likely come sit a spell.

Closing the barn door because it is open and shouldn't be, hanging a gate or throwing a little extra flake of hay to the old sorrel because he is looking his age and getting a little thin.

Something to love is easy. You have to love the life to be there and love it even more to stay there.

Something to love begins with the sunrise, carries through the day with family, livestock, pets, and a favorite chair to grab a short siesta in the heat of the day.

Something to love comes in the mail when a faraway friend takes the time to jot you a note.

Something to love is the satisfaction of the honest tired you feel when you, at last, lay your head down to sleep in anticipation of the next sunrise.

Something to love falls with the rain, blows with breeze on a hot afternoon, bleats with a new lamb, nickers with a new colt and bawls with a new calf.

And something to hope for is the very foundation of life in agriculture. Never is there a larger volume of hope than that which wells up within every human that makes their living from the land.

Hope blankets the entire life of a rancher. He hopes the market improves, holds, or doesn't drop.

He hopes his cows are bred and his calves will be born on a sunny day.

He hopes the grass will grow and the grasshoppers don't.

He hopes his family is safe at all times and he hopes he is there when they need him.

While hope springs from within us all, for the rancher and farmer it is like a major organ that keeps him alive. The sprig of green that promises a crop and the birth of new life that promises a paycheck are the pulse of his entire life-- year after year.

Men of agriculture are soldiers that feed the world while a fight faces them every way they turn.

People who eat food fight them. People who wear shoes fight them. People who indirectly make a living off their way of life fight them.

And yet, when it is again Spring, those soldiers of agriculture plant, brand, and begin a new life cycle.

And their song is "Maybe it will rain."

© Julie Carter 2006

Two powerful and interesting articles this week. Don't forget we welcome submissions for this feature of The Westerner.