“Power line cuts are spectacular places.” – Michael Giambalvo

One thing that compelled me to study landscape architecture in college was my tendency to reflect on space and place as I navigate through the world.  Space is our three-dimensional perception of reality, which we define using Euclidean geometry and standardized units of measurement. Place is the meaning a person or group of people gives to a defined space. This meaning may be inherent in the forms that reside in the space, or it may come from the historic or cultural context of the space. Usually it is a synthesis of the three.

Because the same space can take on very different and powerful meanings to different groups of people, land managers should investigate the social context of the property they manage. Though community involvement and stakeholder meetings are socially responsible prerequisites to major modifications and new management plans, in our civilization the decision making power defaults to the holder of the property rights associated with land ownership. Property rights and land ownership can easily be teased apart however.

In the case of property easements, landowners sell or donate certain rights to a piece of land without giving up ownership. One common type of property easement is an electric transmission right-of-way, in which utility companies purchase land easements to erect power lines to distribute power, and the landowners agree to manage the land so that the lines can be safely maintained. In New Jersey, this means that woody plants that reach heights greater than fifteen feet must be kept out of the easement boundary.

As a young, yet-to-be-educated environmentalist, I would ride in the car and see power line cuts make reverse-mohawks out of wooded hilltops. They were giant lacerations in the landscape. It seemed like there was no escaping the destructive force of life “on the grid.” But I’ve since learned that these mowed forest pinstripes actually do some ecological good. They are sanctuaries for native grasses and sun-loving forbs that are struggling to make space for themselves on a fire-suppressed landscape.

The past six months, Michael and I have been taking advantage of the power line easements that run through our seed collection sites, sometimes making as many as four good collections at once as we walk the line. There is no shortage of nature under those wires. Our explorations have uncovered many mystical plants and insects– even a bear skull! Now when I drive under the power lines that drape the countryside, my curiosity peels back my eyelids as I turn my head to peer down the mysterious corridors.

From Brooklyn to the Pine Barrens, one of my favorite things about this internship is all of the spaces that have become, for me, special places.

RK, Mid-Atlantic Regional Seed Bank

photo by Michael Giambalvo, used with permission

Black River Wildlife Management Area.

Prime Hook National Wildlife Refuge, Deleware

The exposed mudflats of Prime Hook National Wildlife Refuge in the image above reveal the current state of one of the largest ever salt marsh restoration projects on the East Coast, spanning 4000 acres. Before Hurricane Sandy hit in 2012, the refuge had long been managed as impounded freshwater wetland habitat to suit the preferences of fishers and hunters, but the powerful storm sent saltwater rushing into where it once belonged, killing the life which could not tolerate it. Our good friends with U.S. Fish & Wildlife decided it would be best to create a salt marsh where salt marsh once stood.

Indeed, all along the Mid-Atlantic coast, restoration efforts are underway to re-create quality, more resilient ecosystems where Sandy has wounded the land. These efforts require A LOT of plant material, but as we botanists know, not all plant material is genetically equal for the conservation of life and land. Plants populations that have evolved to inhabit the shores of Long Island do not fare as well when planted on the shores of Delaware. Sandy has, in a way, done conservationists the favor of opening our eyes to the lack of stockpiles of genetically appropriate plant materials for disaster response in the East. The prudent folks at the Mid-Atlantic Regional Seed Bank, which we affectionately call MARSB (mars-bee), are working hard to resolve this issue. Land managers up and down the coast are anxiously awaiting the seeds we collect for their projects. This, friends, is how I find myself as a wild seed collector living in the heart of Brooklyn. It has been a sweet dream thus far.

NYC, my home-base

My partner and I have been assigned the task of collecting in the state of New Jersey. Though we have barely begun to explore all of the diverse, beautiful conservation lands for which we have permits to collect, we have had our fair share of adventures, and have seen innumerable neat plants. One of my favorites is the swamp azalea (Rhododendron viscosum), which made the trek through catbrier (Smilax) thorns, ticks, and mosquitos worth every bite.

Rhododendron viscosum— it smells as pretty as it looks.

We’ve explored dunes, saltwater and freshwater marshes, forests, swamps, and bogs. Those who know New Jersey know its famous Pine Barrens and the “Pineys” that call the infertile land home. Let me tell you, Pineys know how to claim a beautiful landscape for their home. I loooove the Pine Barrens. It seems that I’ve been too immersed in the beauty to snap a picture for y’all. Imagine sparsely placed pitch pine (Pinus rigida) and scrub oak (Quercus illicifolia), blueberries and numerous other Ericaceae members (my favorite plant family, which includes the swamp azalea), and the occasional naked patch of sandy spodosol (soil talk). Next time I’ll snap a photo haha.

So far, we’ve mostly been scouting out populations for future collection, but we have managed to make a handful of collections already.

prickly bog sedge (Carex atlantica)– collected at Peaslee Wildlife Management Area, NJ

Though there is so much collecting yet to be done this season and beyond, I dare say the next time a hurricane the likes of Sandy hits, MARSB’s vaults will be ready to dole out relief.

Well, I think I’ve spent enough time on the computer for today. It’s time I go outside and do some botanizing. There are loads of fun plants to see in NYC if you have the eye for them.  I’ll leave you with a few photographs before I go.

kayaking on Deleware Bay to reach distant stretches of salt marsh in Egg Island Wildlife Management Area

The preferred habitat of mussels is underneath saltmarsh cordgrass (Spartina alterniflora).

The native prickly pear cactus (Opuntia humifusa) growing on the dunes with coastal panicgrass (Panicum amarum var. amarulum)