Two-ton projectiles rage in both directions on South Bay Boulevard as morning rush-hour traffic whistles by like death in a hurry. Willows part on the side shoulder, revealing the suspicious nose of a California Mountain Lion sampling the crisp air for danger. For a split second, an improbable lull in traffic allows the big cat to gallop safely across, his tawny-colored fur damp in the estuarine fog. How many such arduous crossings will he make before the inevitable collision of saber-tooth cousin and new-age neanderthal driving his metallic flying carpet?
While out among the salted marsh, large white birds dance, wings akimbo, speaking an age-old language of love, fattening up on sea worms and protein, readying for their long flight North. Two lanes would soon become four, and animal crossings made even more perilous and only to facilitate impatient commuters on their early a.m. pilgrimage to the dollar bill.
And what will the citizens give back in return?
A wildlife crossing overpass can afford safe passage to mammals, both predator and prey alike, as they, too, make a daily pilgrimage from hillside to estuary and back again come dusk.
We need both pledge and commitment by our leadership to discontinue allowing the use of blood-thinning rodenticides, which kill our owls at Sweet Springs Preserve, and keep our lions and coyotes wearing sickly coats of mange. These are the tradeoffs that must be considered by our leaders and demanded by our citizens, as we try to live together with the world that spawned us and upon which our own survival depends. The Morro Blue Butterfly needs its’ critical habitat, the Silver Dune Lupine. And the lupine needs us. Our Mountain Lion is only mighty if he remains alive. And he will only remain alive if our hearts will allow him to be.
Joseph John Racano
Los Osos
