White Ibis and Public Space

Two days ago, a Great Egret and four White Ibis were feeding in my front yard ... except I realized it's not a "yard", it's probably not "front", and it's certainly not "mine".

I notice, when I'm here by myself, I get a lot of practice debating.  I'll think something or even say it out loud.  Then I'll come up with a persuasive rejoinder.  I rebut the rejoinder and so on.  The dialogue continues back and forth until I finally defeat my opponent with some unassailable point.  The two dogs listen politely and agree with both points of view; the two cats don't seem to care about either.

In this vein, when I saw the four Ibis with their pink decurved bills, I thought how amazing it was to have these glorious and spectacular birds in my front yard.  (This next photo isn't mine... it's a public domain photo from www.bestphotos.us... to whom I am grateful!).

Then, as I said above, I realized they're standing in a marsh, not my front yard... and it's more out back of the house than in front... and it's a wetlands which I view but don't control.  Hmmm.  I apparently get a lot of joy from using and looking at things that aren't mine.

Many of us humans tend to view the world from such an ownership perspective.  "That's mine."  "That's yours."  This seems to start at a very young age as we learn and develop.

Using things which we think are "ours" is actually a big point of contention out here on Hatteras Island right now.  Much of the land on the Island is part of Cape Hatteras National Seashore (since 1953).  For almost 60 years, the Park Service has allowed residents and visitors to drive for free on most of the National Seashore beaches here.  However, about five years ago, Defenders of Wildlife and the National Audubon Society sued the National Park Service (NPS) because the plaintiffs felt NPS wasn't meeting their legal obligations with regard to habitat and wildlife protection.  The courts agreed with the plaintiffs and, after 15 March 2012, beach driving will be limited... vehicles will need to purchase a permit, a limited number of permitted vehicles will be allowed on the beach at any time, and certain beach areas will be newly off-limits to vehicular traffic.

These new restrictions have resulted in an indignant outcry from many Island residents and visitors.  (Those who aren't outraged are staying cautiously quiet, generally seeing little to be gained by helping the courts defend their ruling or by helping the Park Service explain why they have to do what the courts required). 

Charles Olson, the poet from Gloucester, Massachusetts, once wrote "What does not change is the will to change."  Although that's true for us when we are in an adaptive frame of mind, it seems often just as true that resistance to change is the only thing which doesn't change.

That's where we are on the Outer Banks right now.  On these Islands made of sand (with no underlying bedrock for thousands of feet), held together only by plant roots and the tolerance of the wind and currents, we are temporarily upset about change.  There will be back and forth on the new rules, new procedures will be established and become part of the local culture, and then those will change again and new invective will be hurled at those deemed responsible for the new state of affairs.

In the meantime, if we are lucky, the White Ibis will continue to grace us with their presence, the Island will shift its contours, and we'll either resist or adapt with the changes.