volunteering at the Bethany Lake community garden, I was asked to weed armloads of mint. Weed I did, right into a plastic bag to take home! Driving from there to pay to pick berries, I passed two heavily loaded cherry trees on the side of the road, so of course I stopped. Luckily, I had a large plastic container that I could balance on to harvest the yellow and red cherries. On my local dog walk, I noticed that the park down the street had several cherry plum trees. I modified an apple picker to harvest this tart, tasty fruit! Now I’m watching the blackberries ripen! I’m hoping to get enough to make blackberry wine.
I love foraging for food. Portland has proved to be a productive landscape this summer! While volunteering at the Bethany Lake community garden, I was asked to weed armloads of mint. Weed I did, right into a plastic bag to take home! Driving from there to pay to pick berries, I passed two heavily loaded cherry trees on the side of the road, so of course I stopped. Luckily, I had a large plastic container that I could balance on to harvest the yellow and red cherries. On my local dog walk, I noticed that the park down the street had several cherry plum trees. I modified an apple picker to harvest this tart, tasty fruit! Now I’m watching the blackberries ripen! I’m hoping to get enough to make blackberry wine. Cash (left) and River Monster (right) are not amused by all the time spent processing fruit. Foraged cherries and mint are circled in the left photo. The right photo shows the finished product, canned fruit as preserves, jelly, syrup, and whole! (Left) I’m taking River Monster on a dog walk/cherry plum picking adventure with my modified apple picking tool. (Right) Cherry plums in a 5-gallon bucket.
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This past Memorial Day weekend, I had the pleasure of leading a group of friends, family, and dogs (including my chocolate lab, River Monster) down 70 miles of the John Day River in eastern Oregon. The John Day has the longest stretch of undammed water in the Northwest (284 miles), and the section of the John Day we paddled (from Clarno to Cottonwood) is designated as Wild and Scenic. We got lucky with water levels and had plenty of water to float the river (over 3,000 cfs)! It was quite the adventure with sightings of a long-eared owl family at camp, golden eagles eyeing Mom’s mini-Schnauzer, noisy chuckers, big horn sheep feeding along the river, and small mouth bass at the end of fishing poles.
“How close is he?” Matt asked.
“100 yards, at the edge of the hay field.” I whispered. The day before, in this same spot, two jakes had flown down right in front of me, spotted Frankie (my decoy), and charged in. I had shot one of the jakes, and I was hoping that this morning the other jake would do the same thing for Matt. But, of course, he did not. He did roost in the same tree, but he’d stayed in that tree gobbling for a whole HOUR past when he and his buddy had flown down yesterday. He was suspicious. While we heard gobbling in every direction at dawn, we couldn’t chase the other gobblers as they were off the small property on which we had permission to hunt. We had to stay put and call this gobbly, tree-dwelling rascal in! After 2 hours of gobbling up in his tree, silence. Five minutes later I spotted him out in the hay field at 100 yards. His head was just poking up over the tall grass, and he was staring in our direction. I pulled out my tail fan and tried to entice him closer, but he was not having it. After a few more gobbles, he moseyed off. Matt was crestfallen, but with so many gobblers calling in the area, I had hope. Plus this was the only local spot we had to hunt. We stayed put and did what you do while waiting for turkeys. We napped, snacked, farted, and listened for gobbles. Every 10-15 minutes, I gave a yelp on the slate call. Around 9 am, my yelp was answered by a gobble less than 100 yards away. I told Matt to get ready. As I peeked out of the blind, the turkeys started pouring into the hay field 70 yards away, three hens followed by two big gobblers. I knew it would be hard to get the gobblers to leave the hens, but that was where Frankie came in. After ten minutes and some more sexy yelps on my part, one gobbler came close enough to see Frankie and charged! He galloped in at a half strut, chest feathers shaking. “Wait until he stops and sticks his head up.” I whispered. At 15 yards, the gobbler slowly circled Frankie preparing for the fight, paused, and BOOM Matt shot. As the gobbler flopped on the ground, the second tom charged in, even faster than the first. I had my gun on him as he circled and aggressively pecked his buddy. Then he turned on Frankie. The old gobbler jumped straight up, kicked his left leg out, and spurred Frankie. “Where are the hens?” I asked Matt, who had a better view from his wheelchair. I could hear a hen yelping, but I couldn’t see it. “10 yards to the side of the gobbler. You’ve got a clear shot.” But the gobbler wasn’t picking his head up. His head was down, pecking my sweet Frankie! I couldn’t take it anymore. I opened my mouth and gave a soft yelp. He rose up and looked around. BOOM. Second turkey down. I flipped the blind up and ran to the birds. Two perfect neck/head shots on two adult toms. Matt wheeled over, and we giggled with excitement, admiring the beautiful birds. The landowner walked around the corner of the barn and held up two fingers, silently asking if we’d killed two. We nodded, waved him over, and chatted for a few minutes. He was very excited for us and snapped our photo. He thanked me for the handmade cards I’d given his wife the day before. Seeing Matt’s wheelchair, he suggested I drive right up to Matt and the birds. As we loaded up, I couldn’t believe our luck. We’d killed four birds that weekend on private land in the Willamette Valley! Matt killed his first and second birds after many years of unsuccessful turkey hunting. Those unsuccessful years were before I knew Matt. We’d only been dating 6 months when this turkey season started! Turkey hunting is HARD, and it’s especially hard for people with disabilities. Matt uses a wheelchair fulltime due to his spinal cord injury. He had a very successful turkey season this year due in large part to a collaboration between Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife, Pheasants Forever, and landowners. This collaboration provided the public with accessible hunts on private property in the Willamette Valley. Before daylight, we were able to park by the landowner’s barn and walk/wheel 150 yards down a level, hard-packed farm path to our hunting spot. It was not a large property, but it was large enough! Additionally, the landowner knew how the birds moved, and by communicating that to us, he helped us have a successful hunt without scouting. We got out on a beautiful morning in mid-May, heard a great deal of gobbling, and the birds cooperated. These types of collaborations have the potential to provide many memorable and equitable hunting opportunities for hunters with disabilities and able-bodied hunters with limited access to public or private land. This great new program shows what can be accomplished when we work together. Our heartfelt thanks go out to all the partners who made that morning one we will never forget. Thank you! I gave two talks in May this year! One was at the Society for Freshwater Science annual meeting on my post-doctoral research titled, "How do race and gender influence environmental flows in Florida?" You can view it here on youtube.
The second talk I gave was at inQUEERy: queering the sySTEM, a series of lightning talks on topics at the intersection of science and queer and/or trans identities. I told funny and/or inspiring stories of queer and trans scientists, which can be viewed here on youtube. I am also linking my PhD defense presentation for folks to view here on youtube. That presentation covers the research I did for my PhD, which includes how diversity and inclusion is encouraged in the Society for Freshwater Science and the impacts of dams on invertebrate community dynamics and population genetics. I also spend some time talking about the power of unions! This summer has been defined by “the pivot.” Right before the summer started, I finished bargaining a huge labor contract for graduate employees at Oregon State University (OSU), where I’m getting my PhD. So in my free time this summer, I refocused my social justice work on getting Graduate Record Examination (GRE) scores removed from my department’s entrance requirements (success there!), helping international graduate employees receive their $500 Visa credit we bargained to include in our labor contract, and joining the Black Lives Matters protests. For work this summer, I originally thought I’d be teaching as a graduate teaching assistant through OSU. Then I got an amazing internship opportunity with the US Fish and Wildlife (USFWS) in Portland, Oregon. Then the internship went remote, so I got to stay safely in my home and work during a pandemic. Yay! This internship has given me an introduction to the variety of “hats that I could wear” in the USFWS. I look forward to looking for jobs with the USFWS once I graduate. But the pivoting continues, because I was also offered a post-doctoral position at Florida International University (likely remote) to research how race influences water management in Florida. Luckily, the direct hiring authority associated with the USFWS internship is valid for 2 years. I have time to complete my post-doc while also looking and applying for USFWS jobs. But first, I must graduate! In order to graduate this December, I’ve been working 4 days/week for 10 hours each and spending Fridays and weekends working on my dissertation. On top of it all, I became a dog mom this summer! River Monster does not approve of 10-hour workdays that do not end in a bike ride or river float! It has truly been a summer of wild pivots.
Aside from my pup, the Hispanic Access Foundation and many USFWS employees have helped me maintain balance this summer. The kindness and hopefulness of these folks have encouraged me to pivot my career as well. I entered my PhD program wanting to pursue a career in academia as a professor. Over the last few years, I’ve become less and less enthusiastic about the work culture of higher education. To be completely honest, I find it toxic. While some people find and spread joy in academia, they are singular bright spots, having to work extremely hard to spread their positive energy and push against harmful institutional structures. In contrast, most of the people I have engaged with in the USFWS seem happy and supported by their institution! As the social inequities of America have been highlighted this summer by the pandemic and police brutality, USFWS employees have talked about how they can be agents of social change. Many are hopeful that they can continue to do good conservation work and replace themselves when they retire with a contingency of people who better reflect American demographics. That’s a work culture that excites me, but first, to graduate! Photo caption: I became a dog mom this summer! World, meet River Monster. As part of my U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (USFWS) internship, I am updating a document that summarizes USFWS invasive species management in the Pacific Region. The first thing that stood out to me when I read the original report (written in 2013) was the war-like language that was used to describe invasive species management. Species movements were described with the following language: invasion, relentless onslaught, and ground zero; for management, words such as battle, fight, control, united front, and strike team were used. When I was researching invasive species in Hawai’i back in 2013-15, I don’t remember this language (intended by ecologists to promote urgency around this issue) seeming problematic to me, as it does now. While my perception has changed, the language has not. In my review of recent USFWS invasive species projects and the scientific literature, I’ve noticed that this war-like, anti-immigrant language continues to be pervasive throughout invasion ecology.
What is an invasive species? As defined by the USFWS, an invasive species is a species that is not native to an ecosystem and which causes, or is likely to cause, harm to the environment, economy, or human health. To be considered native, a species must inhabit an ecosystem as a result of natural processes, such as through speciation (that is, one species evolves into multiple species over time) or natural movements (not human or climate change assisted or motivated). The more I think about how we define which species are native vs invasive and the language that we use to describe organismal movements, the more I think about human movements, racism, and xenophobia. How might a first-generation immigrant to the US respond to a public invasive species campaign that uses this language? How might a Native American view invasive species and removal efforts by the US Department of the Interior, an agency once tasked with the removal of Native American peoples? How is the language that we use to describe natural resource management influenced by politics, and how do these sentiments reverberate back onto society? I’m certainly not the only one thinking about this right now. An article titled, “Am I an invasive species?” was recently forwarded to me through an invasive species listserv (named “Aliens”). Dr. Jenny Liou an ecologist and Chinese American, wrote the article describing her family, her formal ecological education, and how her thinking about invasive species has changed this Spring given the recent intersection of Asian giant hornets, COVID-19, and racialized violence in the US. I believe this quote sums up Dr. Liou’s shift in thinking, “I have yet to reconcile my training as an ecologist with my growing sense that what I learned reifies violent white norms far beyond the realm of natural resources.” As ecology and natural resource fields seek to increase diversity and inclusion, we must reexamine the language we use to describe our work. We must think about how the intent of our language differs in its impact on readers with a range of identities and how our work may be co-opted by people and political movements. I will utilize my privilege to shift the language within this USFWS report and to bring the ideas touched upon in this blog to the forefront of the minds of those ecologists and natural resource practitioners who read it. Citations: Liou, J. 2020.Am I an invasive species? High Country News. https://www.hcn.org/issues/52.8/north-race-and-racism-am-i-an-invasive-species? Photo caption: This mongoose posed for a photo while scavenging a mouse on the Big Island of Hawaii. For my master’s research, I quantified what species scavenged invasive species’ carcasses in different habitats of Hawaii. I grew up exploring the woods and rivers with my family: seeing, touching, and eating from the trees and animals. I learned from my biologist parents about missing elements in the Southeastern US forests, such as the longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) and the American chestnut (Castanea dentate). But I did not grow up learning about the people who weren’t in the woods. The racial composition of the Southeastern US is diverse, but the people I saw in the woods and working with my parents in conservation were mostly white, like myself.
During my PhD, I began reflecting on how my privilege affected my experience growing up in the Southeast and the career I was able to pursue. While I hold some marginalized identities (woman, queer), I grew up very privileged (white, able-bodied, upper-middle class, third generation college student) and confident that I would be a biologist. In working with my graduate student labor union at Oregon State University, I have seen how radically different, and more negative, the experiences of graduate students with marginalized identities (i.e., racial, ability, gender, immigration status) are in graduate school compared to my own. As a feminist leader, labor activist and graduate student, I have fought for protections and benefits for graduate employees, such as paid parental leave and reimbursement of Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals renewal fees. As I near the end of my PhD and start the job search, I am looking for a conservation agency for which I can do meaningful scientific research while also working for social justice. We need a fundamental paradigm shift towards addressing—in all that we do—the inequity woven into the United States and science. I was drawn to the Directorate Fellowship Program of the US Fish and Wildlife (USFWS) because of its mission to get folks with marginalized identities hired into this federal agency. The USFWS is changing its practices (i.e., hiring) and putting substantial funding towards enacting intensions expressed in diversity statements; this impressed me. The USFWS is partnering with agencies, such as the Hispanic Access Foundation (HAF), to ensure that fellows have positive and meaningful experiences. While this is only my first week on the job, I can already see differences between how academic and these two agencies approach diversity and inclusion. Last night over email, a USFWS employee expressed to their co-workers (which now includes me!) their joy over the Supreme Court’s decision to uphold LGBTQ+ protections in the workplace. They made themselves vulnerable on a public platform, which tells me that they trust their colleagues in a way that I do not often see in academia. Additionally, HAF has hosted discussions among fellows to discuss systems of oppression and Black liberation. I look forward to continuing these conversations over the next 11-weeks of this fellowship and using these experiences to inform my research. My fellowship research project is to update a report on the USFWS Pacific Region’s approach to invasive species management. Look for my next post in which I will start to unpack the language used in invasion biology! Photo caption: Emalydia Flenory (left) and I (right) were the co-lead negotiators for graduate employee labor union bargaining this year! Our platform (shown in the background) was “Give us an E.D. R.A.I.S.E.” inspired by the university president Ed Ray getting a 6% raise, bringing his salary to $800,000/year while many graduate employees are paid less than $12,000/year. Six rivers, two bachelorette parties, and one wedding: family, friends, and southeastern rivers9/25/2018 "Run!” I yelled to Kelsey as the wasps started boiling out of the azalea bush that we were trimming. We leapt off my Grammy’s porch in eastern North Carolina and tore through the yard, stopping after a bit to confirm we weren’t being chased. Half panting and half giggling, I said, “The fish are nicer than those wasps. I think it’s time we head back to the river!” When I travel, I TRAVEL. I recently traveled home to the Southeastern USA for a trip bookended by bachelorette parties and a wedding. As I’m only able to go home once a year, I always try to see EVERYONE. I have family and friends in North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, and Tennessee, which unfortunately means a lot of driving. Rather than just relaxing and reminiscing after long drives, I show up with a boat and an enthusiasm for making new memories while reminiscing about the old! To successfully do this, I utilize public access points along our rivers. It is only with public access to the rivers that we (Americans) all own, that am I able to enjoy and introduce my friends to our magnificent rivers. The day I flew home to Aiken, SC, I started preparing for the first adventure, a bachelorette party for my friend, Rachael Hoch (she’s a freshwater mussel biologist with the North Carolina Wildlife Resource Commission). After a couple hours running around gathering gear from my parents’ house, I was ready! We celebrated Rachael by paddling 20miles of the Edisto River, SC, looking for mussels (we found one shell and some spam…), sharing memories, and sleeping in swamp treehouses! It was great to catch up with Rachael and make new friends on this black water river. The day after the Edisto paddle I headed to Athens, Georgia, meeting up with Jess Chappell, a friend from my Masters at the University of Georgia. I threw myself in her car, and we headed north to the Chattooga River, a beautiful Wild and Scenic River, where we rented inflatable duckies and paddled some Class II-III whitewater. While it was mostly a relaxing day, there was a good bit of excitement when a 6ft waterfall and Bull Sluice rapid (Class IV) surprised me (I’d only run this section once ~10yrs ago). But per usual, we started at the top and wound up at the bottom. With big smiles! We spent our time talking about graduate school and a paper we are writing together. Jess and I both study dams and are writing an invited paper about conservation collaborations! What better way to brainstorm than on a Wild and Scenic River, 50 years after the Wild and Scenic Rivers Act was passed. My next adventure was a combination family/friend paddle. My parents and I picked up Kelsey Turner, a labmate from my Masters who was pivotal in helping me get my Hawaii research completed, and headed to my Grammy’s house in eastern North Carolina. The entire car ride Kelsey and I reminisced about field work (think rotting mongoose carcasses) and epic adventures (hiking volcanoes, prepping for hurricanes, visiting beaches, you get the idea…) At Grammy’s we did a little yard work (avoiding the wasps!) and cleared some shooting lanes for deer season before heading into the swamp for a little fishing! Kelsey caught her first fish on the Northeast Cape Fear (another black water river) with a whole bunch of Abernethys (3!) piled into a canoe with her. I caught a couple fish as well, and we had us a fish fry! While Kelsey started her work week as a biologist at Shaw Air Force Base and my Dad flew to Utah to hunt elk with my brother, I took the canoe and headed to the Catawba River, to meet Alex Mentes, a friend from my undergrad at Appalachian State, under a highway bridge. We were paddling a river new to both of us for which I had found access points online. Alex met me under the bridge, and we headed to the put-in, hoping the access details were true. They were, and Alex and I had a very relaxing paddle on part of the longest undammed section of the Catawba, ~25 miles downstream of Wylie Dam. We saw huge fish jump, picked up a little trash, and discussed life after undergrad. We concluded a great day with a meal at the Country Omelet, classic southern food at a highway exit! After visiting my Cousins (Jeff, Cody, and their 10 day old son, so cute!) and Grandmother (“Gray”) on a quick trip through Atlanta, GA, and Nashville, TN, with my Mom, I zipped up to the Pigeon River in Tennessee for Labor Day weekend. I had worked on the Pigeon River as a raft guide during my undergrad years, and my fellow co-workers were reconvening on the water this weekend! We reflected on how the rafting industry had (and had not) changed over the years, mostly glad that we were in different jobs. While the Pigeon River was once (and still is by some) called “the dirty bird” from all the pollution, we celebrated the now clean river, although it’s still highly regulated by Walters Dam, by paddling the “lower” Class II section in rafts and kayaks. Two nights in Asheville were then spent visiting with more friends, dominating local trivia matches, and cooling off in Lake Powhatan, a local lake created in the 1940s when Bent Creek was dammed. Then it was off to Boone, NC, for the second bachelorette party. We gathered together at the Boone Saloon, an old haunt from my (later) undergrad years during which time I tricked all the grad students in the biology department into thinking that I was also a grad student. We celebrated Alex Bentz, the bride-to-be and animal behavior PhD, by paddling the New River just northeast of Boone. We had a scrape-y paddle that required a little dragging of the boats, but the weather was wonderful, the company cheery, and the French 75s strong. This day signaled the start of the Alex Bentz and Dan Becker (yet another scientist!) wedding extravaganza! I showed up on the farm with enough food to feed an army, and we got to decorating and shooing away snakes (really, a black rat snake was in my shack!) Weddings are my favorite events, and Alex and Dan’s wedding is my favorite by far!!! Adam Rymer, one of my friends from the Pigeon River and an exuberant dancer, joined me and all of our Appalachian State and University of Georgia friends in marrying off Alex and Dan and dancing until 3am! Two days later as Hurricane Florence blew into the South, I flew back to Oregon to attend a Florence and the Machine concert in Portland with Corvallis friends. Now after a rejuvenating trip home, paddling publically accessible Southeastern rivers while visiting family and friends, I’m back to writing those PhD dissertation chapters. Of course I’ll take the occasional break to paddle some Oregon rivers, which provide world-class scenery, fishing, and duck hunting to public landowners (that’s me and you!) So take advantage of public access and get out there and enjoy our rivers safely! See you on the water! In the bottom of the Grand Canyon in the sweltering June dusk, 14 mustached (permanent marker enhanced) youths gathered around to witness a timid squirrel named “Pink Paws” marry “Cut Throat” the killer mermaid. The rather ridiculous vision of a squirrel hand puppet being wed to a mermaid dog chew toy will live on only in the memories of the youths, raft guides, and scientists witness to the riverside ceremony. All the cameras had run out of batteries days before. Musical accompaniment was the ruckus laughter of the young people who were thoroughly enjoying themselves in this wild place. This is a Grand Canyon Youth trip (GCY). Youths aged 15-19 sign up on a first-come basis to raft half of the Grand Canyon (either starting at Lee’s Ferry or the Bright Angel Trail) for 9 days. The mission: do science and have the time of your life! By incorporating scientific research into these trips, GCY is able to partner with the US Geological Survey’s Grand Canyon Monitoring and Research Center for river permits and equipment. I was lucky enough to be one of the scientists invited on not one, but TWO of these trips! My research examines the movements of aquatic insects between Grand Canyon tributaries (small streams following into larger rivers, in this case the Colorado River). On these trips, I give the youth nets and show them how to collect aquatic insects. We use tweezers to pick particular insects out of the nets, while sitting in the shade of soaring rock walls. The youths learn to recognize mayflies, water striders, and caddisflies, the insects that I use in my research. I explain that I take the insects back to the lab, extract the DNA, and use the DNA sequences to tell me how related different populations are among tributaries throughout the Grand Canyon. This knowledge will help us better understand their movements between habitats, which will aid in their conservation. The youths are engaged, showing genuine interest and enthusiasm (yelling, "YAY SCIENCE," is common) in the scientific projects for which they are helping to collect the data. When not helping with the science, the youths are being LOUD and SILLY, exploring and building new friendships. Many are in transition, from middle to high school or high school to college and from youth to adult. The scientists and raft guides treat these high school students largely as adults, capable of doing science, preparing meals, and making their own decisions about when and where to explore. These trips are truly transformative experiences for the youths. I know because they tell us in their own words. I also find them transformative for myself. Graduate school can seem like quite the slog, but these trips rejuvenate me, by reminding me that being loud and silly is healthy and that my science is indeed interesting and important. I am truly grateful that Grand Canyon Youth exists that I am a part of this wonderful organization. If you are or know a high school student, look into Grand Canyon Youth (video to get you stoked)! I was born on the banks of the Pasquotank where bullfrogs jumped from bank to bank and skinned their legs from shin to shank. That’s the rhyme my dad sang to me growing up. I was born beside water, grew up playing in it, and continue to research it. My biologist parents took my brother and me out “creek-stomping,” walking up and down shallow streams, in South Carolina as soon as we could hold our heads up. My parents instilled in me an appreciation for nature and a desire to have as much fun as possible at work, which led me to follow in their footsteps and pursue a degree in ecology. At my undergraduate institution, Appalachian State University (ASU), I started whitewater kayaking in the mountains of North Carolina. Most of these rivers were dammed, so when I could paddle depended on when water was released from the dams. That got me interested in dams and their ecological impacts, and luckily, there was a professor at ASU studying dams, Dr. Mike Gangloff. I worked with Mike to publish a peer-reviewed article on the surprisingly lack of genetic differentiation between freshwater mussel populations above and below small mill dams. After that amazingly fun and supportive lab environment, I couldn’t wait to go to graduate school for more of the same! For my Masters, I took a brief hiatus from freshwater ecology to do research on terrestrial scavenging. While this may seem like an odd deviation, the program was with the University of Georgia’s Savannah River Ecology Lab, located just 20 minutes from my parents’ house. I had grown up hearing about this legendary lab started by Eugene P. Odum, the father of modern ecology. Plus the research sites were located in Hawaii, which sounded like an interesting place to spend a couple of summers! I placed 100s of stinky carcasses in the rainforest and lava fields with remote cameras snapping photos of scavengers. I discovered that invasive species, like mongooses and rats, were scavenging invasive species carcasses. For my final degree, I decided it was time to return to the less smelly world of water. Early in my PhD at Oregon State University, I helped develop collaborations with the U.S. Geological Survey (USGS). Our research shows how aquatic invertebrate communities change as you move further downstream from large dams in the Colorado River, and how often insects move between small streams flowing into the Colorado River within the Grand Canyon. My dissertation research will increase our understanding of how dams impact aquatic invertebrates, animals that provide services to ecosystems (fish food) and humans (increased water quality). Throughout my career, I have chosen intriguing and relevant projects and volunteered with organizations to share my enthusiasm for research and water. In doing this, I have developed my abilities as a scientist and leader and have continued to have fun at my job. I am preparing for a career in an agency like the USGS, where I can have a large, positive impact on how we research and conserve our rivers. This daughter is going to stay in the water! |
AuthorErin is an ecologist looking for the answers to life's persistent questions! Archives
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