A Sand County Almanac: With Essays on Conservation, by Aldo Leopold

A few notes on this widely-referenced collection of conservation essays from 1949. Leopold wrote the book from a 120-acre farm in Wisconsin's alluvial plan, in one of the "sand counties."

I read an edition from 2001, plumped up to coffee table format with lush photographs of the farm made by Michael Sewell, along with a helpful introduction by Kenneth Brower to establish context.

And some of the photos are downright striking. A detail of the speckled skin of a brook trout could be an image of a starfield.

Leopold's essays are loosely stuctured around events of the calendar year, and are followed by summary essays leading up to his statement of a land ethic, which

... reflects the existence of an ecological conscience, and this in turn reflects a conviction of individual responsibility for the health of the land.

A thing is right when it tends to preserve the integrity, stability, and beauty of the biotic community. It is wrong when it tends otherwise.

His thoughts on plant succession (p. 172) anticipate the work of Jared Diamond today.

"A Mighty Fortress," one of the November essays, should be singled out for its identification of the web of life connected to a stand of trees, alive and dead.

My woodlot is riddled by all the diseases wood is heir to. I began to wish that Noah, when he loaded up the Ark, had left the tree diseases behind. But it soon became clear that these same diseases made my woodlot a mighty fortress, unequaled in the whole county.

In a mid-century bioblitz of a few paragraphs, Leopold catalogs raccoon, maple, an unnamed fungus, ruffed grouse, oak, owl, fox, oak gall wasps, bees, rabbit, pine, apple, wahoo, red dogwood, oyster-shell scale, chickadee, ants, pileated woodpecker, barred owl, crows, jays, basswood, wood duck, squirrel, and prothonotary warbler.

To readers of this century, the most shocking passages pertain to fishing and game bird hunting. Yes, Leopold the conservationist writes lyrically about chasing grouse and partridge with a shotgun.

This is written for those luckless one who have never stood, gun empty and mouth agape, to watch the golden needles [of the tamaracks] come sifting down, while the feathery rocket that knocked them off sails unscathed into the jackpines.

posted: 8:42:59 PM