Passion is Optional

 Passion is Optional 

June, 2026

I remember the day I visited my grandpa with a Daisy BB gun in hand. Grandpa was a farmer when he wasn’t pursuing wild game, and I was a lad wanting to test my sharpshooting skills.

I told him I wanted to shoot a mouse. His eyes narrowed. “Go to the granary and sit quiet. You’ll find your mouse.”

I did as directed and within seconds was surrounded by a flurry of rodents, poking their heads from between grain-filled bags, scurrying up the walls, darting across the floor. I was ecstatic. I don’t think a single BB ever connected with its intended target, but I had a great time and declared grandpa a master hunting guide. From that day I wanted to live in his shadow. 

There are people born with a fervor for the natural world and people passionate about music, math, baseball, or nothing in particular.

And so it’s always been. Indigenous tribes lived close to the land.  Some were dedicated hunters and trackers and others, no doubt, went along because participation was expected. Had food and clothing been readily available without hunting, their culture would likely have evolved differently. They may have developed a written language to replace generational storytelling as a way of passing on customs and history. Or maybe they would’ve developed technologies guided by the Iroquois principle that decision-making be based on the impact to the next seven generations.

Not everyone has an inherent interest in wildlife and wild places or is driven to understand ecological systems and our role in them. Aldo Leopold recognized this when he said “There are some who can live without wild things, and some who cannot. For us of the minority, the opportunity to see geese is more important than television, and the chance to find a pasque-flower is a right as inalienable as free speech.”

Few of us are introduced to the concepts of sustainability and carrying capacity in our formal education. We aren’t taught to hold in reverence a planet with finite resources, a thin, balanced atmosphere, and critical ecological interactions refined over eons.  Understanding that everything is intricately connected and in need of wise stewardship is not something we’re born with, and too often  it’s not given more than a passing thought. 

But it should. 

Today, with more than eight billion of us swarming the planet demanding more comforts and conveniences, living without an uncompromising understanding of our environmental impact is leading us down a perilous path. 

I was recently invited to a local book fair to promote my book of nature essays. I sold a few copies, but the experience reinforced what I knew to be true: The majority of attendees were not especially interested in essays about environmental challenges, even when they included reasons for hope. Other genres—mysteries, history, the paranormal—seemed to have more appeal.  

And that’s okay. We’re all different. If we were all consumed by wildlife, conservation, and natural history, many of our scientific and societal advancements would stall. We need people passionate about medicine, engineering, transportation, and politics. 

But every ambition, project, and decision needs to be weighed against its earthly impact. If it’s wasteful or unsustainable, it needs scrapping. Now that we’re fully aware of threats linked to ancient fuels, we need to wean ourselves of them. Now that we recognize the environmental risks associated with toxic chemicals in manufacturing and food production, we need to use our collective consumer influence to force change. We can’t ignore or justify ongoing destructive practices based on historical precedent.

We don’t have to be nature lovers to understand the imperative. But we do need to be aware and make enough noise to interrupt business as usual before the systems that sustain us collapse.

My grandpa loved the outdoors. He understood the habits of wild animals, including mice. But the concepts of ecological overshoot, sustainability, and planetary limits were rarely part of the conversation in his generation. 

They need to be a part of ours. 

There are growing pressures on this beautiful blue sphere. Reverence for the natural world and ecological literacy is not a niche hobby—it’s a survival skill for a crowded planet.

 

 

  

What Coyotes Can Teach a People

What Coyotes Can Teach a People

June, 2026

A new study by the University of Vermont found 58 percent of people worldwide favor protecting the environment over the economy.  In the US, the number dropped from 65 percent in 2020 to 50 percent today. A Gallup survey in 2023 showed 78 percent of Democrats believe the country should prioritize the environment over economic growth, compared with 20 percent of Republicans. 

Those numbers perfectly explain policy decisions coming out of Washington:

—Repeal of the Clean Power Plan

—Weakening Emissions Standards

—Elimination of the Greenhouse Gas Reporting Program 

—Reconsideration of Mercury and Air Toxic Standards 

—Dismantling the Endangerment Finding

—Withdrawal from the Paris Climate Agreement 

—Delays in Methane Emissions Regulation 

And sadly, there’s much more. 

A deep ocean monitoring system which, among other things, measures the impact of ocean warming, is being junked because our commander in chief denies the planet is warming despite overwhelming evidence. The monitors have been in place for more than 10 years and provide crucial data on physical, chemical, geological, and biological conditions in the ocean—information essential to understanding climate change, marine ecosystems, and ocean circulation patterns. 

It has me thinking. Before crossing the desert on a desolate highway, I should first disconnect the gas gauge on my Chevy lest I worry about getting stranded and cooked to death. Or maybe if radar shows a storm with embedded tornadoes closing in, I should throw the weather alert radio out the window and go to bed. No monitor, no worries.

Another policy of equal absurdity is the administration’s decision to bring back the use of M-44 “cyanide bombs” to control coyotes on BLM land.  The devices are spring loaded and baited, so an investigating coyote, dog, fox, child—anything attracted to the bait— gets a lethal dose of cyanide in the face and mouth and dies immediately or within a few agonizing hours. 

I first heard about M-44’s more than 50 years ago while an undergrad at Purdue. Even then the method was known to be ineffective. Yes, it killed coyotes along with non-targeted species, but did nothing to control actual coyote numbers. The survivors simply had larger litters to compensate for losses.

Coyotes are highly adaptable. They drink from swimming pools in Beverly Hills. They thrive in urban areas, utilizing green space and traveling roadways. Their diet is diverse and includes small mammals, fruits, insects, even garbage. Over the decades, despite being exposed to control measures effectively used against wolves, grizzlies, and cougars, coyotes have expanded their range to include every state but Hawaii, and in many areas have become commonplace.  

Resurrecting a method that is outdated, non-selective, and ineffective is just another action by an administration willing to defy science to pacify a handful of plutocrats. 

Then there’s the aggressive disassembling of the US Forest Service and its 121-year history of managing 193 million acres of public lands. Policymakers have determined that portions of the Service, including its world-renowned research branch, are expendable, along with the dedicated professionals and labs holding decades of irreplaceable long-term findings. Fifty-seven research facilities spread across 31 states will be shuttered.

But back to the coyotes. Since 2000, a long-term study of the wily canids in the Chicago area has been overseen by Stan Gehrt, wildlife ecologist with Ohio State University. Among his many findings, Gehrt learned that coyotes are staunchly monogamous and form life-long bonds. Only three to five percent of mammals practice monogamy, and DNA studies prove most include infidelities. Not so with coyotes in the Chicago study. The pair bond is absolute. The males never leave the female’s side during estrous and the females show no interest in other males. The result is a paternal investment where offspring carry the genes of a single male, giving him an evolutionary stake in keeping them alive. It’s an expenditure of parental energy rarely observed.

The study also found that if either of the pair were killed, the survivor would howl mournfully, show signs of lethargy, lose its appetite, and return often to the last known location of its mate.

There’s a lesson here—about persistence when faced with insurmountable odds, about mourning losses while never losing focus, about winning while staying true to what’s right—and it applies to our response to environmental threats. 

We’re on a perilous trajectory in dire need of a correction.  Only 50 percent of us want it changed.