This is an excerpt from photographer and longtime Bay Nature contributor Stephen Joseph’s new book, Mount Diablo, A Story of Place and Inspiration. The book consists of hundreds of Joseph’s photographs, taken over three years on the mountain, and features essays by local conservation leaders.
It’s quite odd, when you stop and think about it, that landscapes shaped by millions of years of wind and rain and tectonic shifts, by countless millennia of vegetation growing and animals digging and dying, such that their boundaries follow the contours of nature, now find themselves shaped by people.
Climate change is an urgent call for changing how we steward the land and connect people to it.
Stewardship in the 21st century and beyond
Bats are bellwethers of climate change, so One Tam’s listening closely
Party cups—that would normally hold beer—painted fluorescent blue, yellow, and white rest atop a mess of dried-up orchardgrass and are tethered to the ground with a thin cord. Inside each cup is a slurry of soapy water and propylene glycol, … Read more
Building a team—be it a gaggle of Little League baseball players, a coalition in Congress, or a new tech business—requires the same tools. And so it is with stewarding nature.
Across the Golden State, conservation collectives are popping up like mushrooms after a hard rain. They’ve united as the California Landscape Stewardship Network. “Together we’re stronger” is their message.
Meeting One Tam’s creatures in 2 million photos
Defining stewardship can be hard. Showing it is easy.