Biology Reference
In-Depth Information
The surprisingly crafty responses of those snakes challenge clichés about minimal in-
telligence in reptiles, as well as pose questions some researchers believe are unanswer-
able, even silly: Could male 41 have conceptualized how a plant might thwart his quest
for prey, even if the problem manifested itself hours or even days later? Did he employ
inferential reasoning and a move usually reserved for vanquishing rivals to solve what
experimental psychologists call a barrier problem? What would a naive young male
without combat experience have done, and, since rattlers of the opposite sex don't fight,
how would superfemale 21 have dealt with that fern? I am among those lucky folks for
whom such puzzles keep us headed outdoors, into the lives of others.
Nature has blessed me with many moments when my rumpled soul was naked and yet I
felt unafraid. As we walked those cactus-studded ravines, gathering data and imagining
the lives of blacktails, I turned from buried grief and self-absorption to more humble
notions of our place in the cosmos. Studying predators, I contemplated violence without
evil, death without tragedy, as if when their fangs pierced another creature I might ac-
cept my own simmering losses. Other memories drift in too, of frogs singing and friends
talking softly while high mountain mist enveloped our camp and dusk fell on an African
swamp. I recall afternoon shadows in the Mohave and how in that perfect stillness my
students were mesmerized by bone fragments protruding from an old owl pellet, then
shortly thereafter by the backlit, oversized ears of a kit fox napping by its burrow. Ac-
companied by kindred souls in such magical places, I would sometimes imagine us lions
in the grass, tails twitching, and joy would overwhelm even the most powerful sadness.
The essays that follow address twin themes, the first being how natural historians
transform curiosity into science and thereby help save species from extinction. More
than that, though, I aim to push into the poetry of field biology, to emphasize the second,
more personal theme and explore how nature eases our existential quandaries. I'll begin
by introducing the great explorers Charles Darwin and Alfred Russel Wallace, then
bring in a venerable institution and another extraordinarily accomplished naturalist,
albeit less well known. Since early in the last century Berkeley's Museum of Verteb-
rate Zoology has played leadership roles in research, education, and conservation, and
Henry Fitch, my most influential teenage mentor, got his Ph.D. there in 1937. I've en-
joyed a life in some ways parallel to Henry's and for twenty years was employed by the
M.V.Z., so Part One combines our stories to illustrate how childhood passions, chance,
and opportunity shape adult trajectories.
Part Two moves from youthful obsessions to academic jobs, and thence into deserts
and rainforests, looking for snakes and other creatures. We'll get acquainted with the
nuts and bolts of field research and teaching, contrast the emotional impact of hot dry
places with hot wet ones; we'll learn some basics of serpent biology and examine ways
in which fear plays into relationships with limbless reptiles. Part Three begins with re-
flections on friendship and happiness, then delves into how an eighteenth-century philo-
sopher's aesthetics and Darwin's theory of “descent with modification” can enhance ap-
preciation for biodiversity. We'll also tackle troublesome notions like anthropomorphism
and wilderness, and finally, backpacks brimming with questions, hit the trail after an-
swers. My overarching claims are that organisms remain the core of biology, science
