Naturally, the birds cannot digest plastic. But exactly what happens when they eat plastic is not well understood. We don't yet know the impacts of plastic consumption on organ systems (digestive or hormonal, for example), individual bird survival (chick or adult), population trends, or species persistence. Plastic floating in open waters can appear similar to albatrosses' prey items, such as squid and fish. In addition to intentional capture of plastic items, albatrosses can also inadvertently consume plastic because they forage by skimming their bills along the water surface. Albatrosses carry plastic back to the colony in their digestive systems and feed it to chicks.
As it happens, consuming non-digestible marine debris is part of the albatross's evolution. Though plastic is a novel element in their environment, pumice stones and squid beaks are not new and are not uncommonly ingested. The albatross's digestive system is adapted
As it happens, consuming non-digestible marine debris is part of the albatross's evolution. Though plastic is a novel element in their environment, pumice stones and squid beaks are not new and are not uncommonly ingested. The albatross's digestive system is adapted
I’m interested in connections we make with the natural world and how those connections change when we live in cities. Living in cities cannot displace our fundamental dependency on nature. But it can diminish our awareness of that dependency. Humans have always altered in some way the variety of plants, wildlife, and landscapes available for us to experience. When we live in cities, those changes are spatially concentrated and intensified. Living within these altered systems, our sense of what is natural can shift or become constrained. Meanwhile, we influence the fate of distant places by the ways we grow food, extract and transport resources, and dispose of trash. Those far away changes are often less visible to us.
When the diversity and functions of natural systems are hidden from us, as they often are for city-dwellers, it is not surprising to see low environmental literacy. However, that pattern is not sustainable. These concerns brought me to conservation biology, an area of science that helps us protect species, habitats, and ecosystems. I approach conservation from many angles, having also worked in art, museums, and public engagement.
When the diversity and functions of natural systems are hidden from us, as they often are for city-dwellers, it is not surprising to see low environmental literacy. However, that pattern is not sustainable. These concerns brought me to conservation biology, an area of science that helps us protect species, habitats, and ecosystems. I approach conservation from many angles, having also worked in art, museums, and public engagement.
I'm interested in people's connections to nature and how those connections change when we live in cities. These interests brought me to conservation biology, a field of science dedicated to protecting species, habitats, and ecosystems. I approach this discipline from many angles, having a background in art, science, museums, and public engagement. My experiences and education have largely focused on birds. I particularly enjoy how birds surprise us, showing up unexpectedly and giving us opportunity to observe animals interacting with their environment. Paying attention to nature--plants, animals, and processes--engages our senses and faculties. Moreover, our attention to nature takes forms in many disciplines, including science, art, theology, and more. These ideas inform my work in conservation and museums. In addition to being a scientist, I am also an artist. My artwork explores themes from biology, often employing visual patterns inspired by nature. I am represented at Groveland Gallery where you can find my paintings, prints, and drawings.
A white tern (Gygis alba) is perched on my hat. Behind me is Midway House. That's what you see, but what you don't see are many incredible stories. White Terns, like many seabirds at Midway Atoll, often approach or follow people. They seem gregarious and they don't exhibit the fear response we typically expect in birds. Having evolved on remote islands in the Pacific Ocean that were free of land predators, their bold behavior is understandable. That bold behavior might lead one to think that humans present no problem for these species.