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are looking at a transitional environment. For example, if we find mangrove forest
and marine mollusks occurring together, we know we are near the shoreline.
Knowing about the past environmental settings within an ecosystem is a very
important first step in restoration of that ecosystem. After all, how can we restore it
to some past condition if we don’t know what those specific conditions were? The
Everglades are undergoing a massive restoration effort that began with court decisions and legislation in the 1990s, will most likely continue for another three to four
decades, and at present is estimated will cost over 10 billion dollars. Entire books
have been written about why the Everglades need to be restored but the short version is water, land, and people. Sometimes there is too much water in south Florida,
especially after hurricanes and tropical storms, and sometimes there is too little
when periodic droughts occur. Starting in the early 1900s people tried to control the
supply and flow of water by building canals and levees. Dry land for people and
agriculture is limited, so throughout the twentieth century as more people moved to
Florida, more wetlands were drained and, as a result, more of the natural ecosystem
was lost. And the ever-growing population and multitude of tourists continue to put
more demands on the water supply and the land. The present Everglades ecosystem
is approximately half the size of what existed around 1900, and the majority of that
is within Everglades National Park. The primary focus of Everglades restoration is
the water – the amount of freshwater flowing through the wetlands, the timing of the
delivery of the water to the wetlands, mangroves, and bays, and the quality of the
water (determined by the level of pollutants). The general thinking of the agencies
that guide Everglades restoration is that if more natural freshwater flow can be
restored to the Everglades, then the plants and animals will respond (“if you build
it, they will come”). However, a major challenge is providing more natural water
delivery for the ecosystem, while still protecting the people, farms, and urban environment from flooding.
From the beginning it was decided that science would guide restoration, which
brings me back to that first meeting on the Everglades in 1994. I was asked to attend
the meeting by a senior colleague with whom I had been working for several years
on the subsurface geology of central Florida. She thought we could make a case for
funding to map out the subsurface layers that controlled the movement of groundwater beneath the Everglades. Being the most junior scientist in the room, I sat in
the back and listened, but as the morning wore on the discussion turned to gathering
data about the past environment. I perked up, but realized they were talking about
finding field notes and reports from scientists who had worked in the Everglades in
the early 1900s before canal construction. Finally, I overcame my reluctance to
speak up. I explained that if we wanted to understand the natural Everglades ecosystem, we wouldn’t find that information in the spotty, site-specific, time-specific
notes of past investigations. What was needed was a paleoecologic study that examined the record of the ecosystem’s history preserved in the sediments and soils of
the Everglades. We could interpret the story of how the Everglades developed over
time, how the ecosystem had changed naturally, and what the human impact had
been. I was asked to write up a brief summary of my ideas and submit it to the group
that was making decisions on projects and funding. I successfully convinced them
G. L. Wingard
are looking at a transitional environment. For example, if we find mangrove forest
and marine mollusks occurring together, we know we are near the shoreline.
Knowing about the past environmental settings within an ecosystem is a very
important first step in restoration of that ecosystem. After all, how can we restore it
to some past condition if we don’t know what those specific conditions were? The
Everglades are undergoing a massive restoration effort that began with court decisions and legislation in the 1990s, will most likely continue for another three to four
decades, and at present is estimated will cost over 10 billion dollars. Entire books
have been written about why the Everglades need to be restored but the short version is water, land, and people. Sometimes there is too much water in south Florida,
especially after hurricanes and tropical storms, and sometimes there is too little
when periodic droughts occur. Starting in the early 1900s people tried to control the
supply and flow of water by building canals and levees. Dry land for people and
agriculture is limited, so throughout the twentieth century as more people moved to
Florida, more wetlands were drained and, as a result, more of the natural ecosystem
was lost. And the ever-growing population and multitude of tourists continue to put
more demands on the water supply and the land. The present Everglades ecosystem
is approximately half the size of what existed around 1900, and the majority of that
is within Everglades National Park. The primary focus of Everglades restoration is
the water – the amount of freshwater flowing through the wetlands, the timing of the
delivery of the water to the wetlands, mangroves, and bays, and the quality of the
water (determined by the level of pollutants). The general thinking of the agencies
that guide Everglades restoration is that if more natural freshwater flow can be
restored to the Everglades, then the plants and animals will respond (“if you build
it, they will come”). However, a major challenge is providing more natural water
delivery for the ecosystem, while still protecting the people, farms, and urban environment from flooding.
From the beginning it was decided that science would guide restoration, which
brings me back to that first meeting on the Everglades in 1994. I was asked to attend
the meeting by a senior colleague with whom I had been working for several years
on the subsurface geology of central Florida. She thought we could make a case for
funding to map out the subsurface layers that controlled the movement of groundwater beneath the Everglades. Being the most junior scientist in the room, I sat in
the back and listened, but as the morning wore on the discussion turned to gathering
data about the past environment. I perked up, but realized they were talking about
finding field notes and reports from scientists who had worked in the Everglades in
the early 1900s before canal construction. Finally, I overcame my reluctance to
speak up. I explained that if we wanted to understand the natural Everglades ecosystem, we wouldn’t find that information in the spotty, site-specific, time-specific
notes of past investigations. What was needed was a paleoecologic study that examined the record of the ecosystem’s history preserved in the sediments and soils of
the Everglades. We could interpret the story of how the Everglades developed over
time, how the ecosystem had changed naturally, and what the human impact had
been. I was asked to write up a brief summary of my ideas and submit it to the group
that was making decisions on projects and funding. I successfully convinced them
G. L. Wingard