Conservation amidst Concrete: Urban Natural Resource Management in Southeastern Wisconsin

Wisconsin has a storied natural resource management history. Thoughts of conservation naturally flow toward the Sand Counties of Aldo Leopold, Wisconsin native John Muir, the 75-year-old restored Curtis tallgrass prairie at the University of Wisconsin–Arboretum, and State Legislator Gaylord Nelson, the founder of Earth Day. Conservation may very well be in our water, but it is the small tributaries that help sustain the flow of the state's great traditions of conservation. One of these new, small tributaries flows through Milwaukee County, the state's largest gathering of humanity and concrete, in the form of urban natural resource conservation. With 900,000 residents and thousands of hectares of natural areas, the opportunity to introduce urban conservation to a diverse group of Wisconsinites holds immense potential for urban natural resource management.

As I write this, I occasionally glance out my desk window, which overlooks a small three-year-old pollinator garden. It is a mixture of native Midwestern plants and annual weeds that continually evolve from a seemingly lifeless patch of mowed turf grass into a glimpse of Wisconsin's natural history. The garden is transforming into a book that becomes more interesting to read with each turning page and a microcosm of urban natural areas. However, just beyond its borders bustling with pollinators, I have a front row seat to wave after wave of humanity. My vision ricochets off of expressways, building complexes, endless cars, and hectares of mowed lawns, all of which contribute to the low and constant murmur of civilization.

On the wall beside my office window, in a very humble frame of rough-cut cedar, hangs a picture of bison standing in a snow squall, warm breath rising from their existence. Etched into the print is a quote from John Muir: "In God's wildness lies the hope of the world—the great fresh unblighted, unredeemed wilderness," (Muir [1890] 1979, 317). It has been one of the mantras of restoration ecology and of my life. Often we attempt to turn back the clock and restore the natural areas we manage to a pre-European wilderness that has been lost and is never to be found again. As a result of this philosophy, no small amount of financial and human resources has been dedicated to wilderness study in order to guide us in our restoration techniques. However, the amount of resources and research tied to urban natural resource management, though expanding, is still limited. Research and development of new urban-specific management techniques is essential, because our collective impact on Earth is now global and the world's population bases are becoming more and more urban. We are now in the wind, within the water, and upon the land. There is no escaping our impact. Turning back the proverbial clock is less of an option with each passing day, and that is why urban restoration ecology, though a young field, could one day be the vanguard of the restoration ecology profession.

Within the confines and complexities of our urban natural areas, we are discovering many new conservation corridors that are leading us to the many dimensions of urban ecological restoration. I can understand that it is easy to look at dense urban areas and say why bother managing natural areas in that setting, because what isn't already destroyed soon will be, and any remaining natural area should be surrounded by a fence to keep the public from loving it to death. There was a time in my career in moments of shallow thought when my mind lingered on these concepts, but the longer I manage urban natural areas the firmer my mind is entrenched at the opposite end of the spectrum. The natural areas that I am privileged to manage have an inspiring tenacity for survival. After more than 150 years of European-American settlement and high human use, these islands of natural history still exist either by chance or great forethought. If we put up fences to keep the public out, we also prevent the reconnection of humanity to the natural world. However, if we carefully let the public in...