By Chel Anderson and Adelheid Fischer
Published by University of Minnesota Press
Reviewed by Stephanie Hemphill
The authors are Chel Anderson, who has worked in the Superior National Forest since 1974 and made important contributions to the Minnesota Biological Survey, and Adelheid Fischer, a prolific writer and winner of a Minnesota Book Award for Nature Writing.
The book is a celebration of the big and little lives that make Lake Superior and its surrounding region so richly complex, an eye-opening recounting of human errors that have brought the natural systems close to collapse, and a challenge to readers to consider how we can live so that all of our neighbors can flourish. An important theme is the fact that the North Shore is not only an ancient place, with exposed bedrock about 1.5 billion years old, and an improbably wild place in the midst of the settled Midwest, but also a place shaped by humans.
The structure of the book mimics the geography of the place: major sections describe the big lake’s Headwaters, Highlands, Nearshore, Lake Superior, and Islands. Smaller chapters, almost like sidebars, delve into details of plant life, animal interactions, human impacts, and so on. For those who want to know more, each section is followed by an exhaustive list of relevant books, articles, and internet resources.
Even for those who think they know the region pretty well, nearly every page offers amazing observations like this example:
In the complex web of life in the big lake, tiny crustaceans called mysids are an important link in the food chain. To avoid predators they spend their days near the lake bottom, as deep as 650 feet, but at sunset they migrate closer to the surface to feed on algae. This daily commute uses up huge amounts of energy, and also probably, incidentally, brings pollutants up from the bottom sediments and redistributes them through the water column.
This is just one of the hundreds of tidbits that pop from the pages of this comprehensive book. Reading it is like being invited along on expeditions in which researchers discover new life forms in the extreme depths, learn how to restore habitat for coaster brook trout, study how changing water levels affect coastal wetlands, and observe for a lifetime the relationship between wolves and moose.
Though much more than a coffee-table book, North Shore is richly illustrated with photographs, maps, and illustrations. Some of the most intriguing are historic photos of logging, fishing, and other human activities that have impacted the lake and its watershed so dramatically.
The book ends with a chapter on “The Wild Card of Climate Change,” with predictably depressing warnings of what is only too likely to happen in the next 100 years. Northern latitudes are expected to warm more dramatically than equatorial regions, and Minnesota is especially sensitive to climate shifts because it sits at a crossroads between the prairie, the deciduous forest and the boreal forest. Small temperature differences keep the systems separate.
The authors had two main goals, both ambitious. One was to help readers “nurture a deep sense of belonging to nature,” which they achieve brilliantly by presenting authoritative science in an engaging way. The second was to motivate all of us to “prioritize this ecological knowledge in our decision-making – both in our households and in our communities.” It’s up to us, they point out, to give ourselves and our fellow creatures time and space to adapt. And it’s up to readers of the book to determine its success in meeting that goal.
Read more in Wilderness News Summer 2015