A Sand County Almanac

“This same year 1871 brought other evidence of the march of empire: the Peshtigo Fire, which cleared a couple of counties of trees and soil, and the Chicago Fire, said to have started from the protesting kick of a cow.

In 1870 the meadow mice had already staged their march of empire they ate up the young orchards of the young state, and then died. They did not eat my oak whose bark was already too tough and thick for mice.

It was likewise in 1870 that a market gunner boasted in the American Sportsmen of killing 6000 ducks in one season near Chicago.

Rest! cries the chief sawyer, and we pause for breath.” 

Early in the book, Leopold meditates on how the rings in the trunk of a recently fallen oak tree correspond to years in American history; at the point of the passage in which this quote is found, he and another person have sawed through enough of the trunk that they’ve reached the 1870s. This rhetorical device underscores the close connection between nature and culture and the ways in which humans are parts of natural systems rather than conquerors of them: As the United States was developing, the tree was developing, too, indifferent to human projects. Finally, the comparison of the slow growth of the tree with the dizzying pace of change in the modern era gives a greater sense of urgency to the call for conservation to protect the nature that is left.

“No prudent man would risk a dollar’s worth of fly and leader pulling a trout upstream through the giant tooth-brush of alder stems comprising the bend of that creek. But, as I said, no prudent man is a fisherman. By and by, with much cautious unraveling, I got him up into open water, and finally aboard the creel.” 

This quote comes from “June,” where Leopold is contemplating the experience of fishing a trout river in the early summer. While the experience is slow and sometimes fruitless, this quote highlights how the purpose of fishing is found in the fishing itself, rather than the outcome. The passage foreshadows Leopold’s praise of hobbies later in the book—as useless, and therefore liberated, pastimes—as well as his discussion of the conservation esthetic, in which he notes that a wild trout caught in a healthy river is worth more than a fish from a river that had been stocked with fish by human hands. Finally, this quote demonstrates Leopold’s character in that it shows his commitment to fishing in an old-fashioned and intrinsically rewarding way.

“The Highway Department says 100,000 cars pass yearly over this route during the three summer months when the Silphium is in bloom. In them must ride at least 100,000 people who have ‘taken’ what is called history, and perhaps 25,000 who have ‘taken’ what is called botany. Yet I doubt whether a dozen have seen the Silphium, and of these hardly one will notice its demise. If I were to tell a preacher of the adjoining church that the road crew has been burning history books in his cemetery, under the guise of mowing weeds, he would be amazed and uncomprehending. How could a weed be a book?”

Leopold is elaborating on an important element of the theme of nature as a teacher: that most people are ignorant of its lessons. In this case, that ignorance has been increased by an increasingly mechanized society, here represented by the highway on which people pass Silphium without knowing what they’re looking at. By contrasting the number of people who’ve undertaken formal study in other disciplines with the number who would note or appreciate Silphium, Leopold is drawing attention to another element of the theme, which considers how formal education dulls people’s appreciation of the natural world.

“There is much small talk and neighborhood gossip among pines. By paying heed to this chatter, I learn what has transpired during the week when I am absent in town. Thus in March, when the deer frequently browse white pines, the height of the browsings tells me how hungry they are. A deer full of corn is too lazy to nip branches more than four feet above the ground; a really hungry deer rises on his hind legs and nips as high as eight feet. Thus I learn the gastronomic status of the deer without seeing them, and I learn, without visiting his field, whether my neighbor has hauled in his cornshocks.”

As Leopold moves through the year in Part 1 of the book, he records the different lessons he gleans from observing nature on his Wisconsin farm. Pines alone provide a year-round education on everything from the harshness of growing conditions in a particular year—based on how close the whorls of their branches are to one another—to, in this case, the relative hunger of deer. Thus, pine forests function as a teacher of both natural phenomena and, as this quote suggests, the actions of people, a connection Leopold further underscores by describing the messages relayed in the pine forest as small talk and neighborhood gossip; he thus implies that pine forests are both their own community and part of the community that includes humans.

“And so they live and have their being—these cranes—not in the constricted present, but in the wider reaches of evolutionary time. Their annual return is the ticking of the geologic clock. Upon the place of their return they confer a particular distinction. Amid the endless mediocrity of the commonplace, a crane marsh holds a paleontological patent of nobility, won in the march of aeons, and revocable on by a shotgun. The sadness discernable in some marshes arises, perhaps from their once having harbored cranes.”

This quote speaks to the importance of wild species and spaces as part of the planet’s history. Patterns such as the annual return of the cranes to a marsh affirm the rights of both the crane and the marsh to exist, as they predate human civilization, and underscores the tragedy in losing phenomena with such a long history, which would continue were it not for human intervention. Insofar as species form part of planetary history that predates humans, they’re also part of human history as they form the context in which humans evolved and human society developed.

“Our grandfathers were less well-housed, well-fed, well-clothed than we are. The strivings by which they bettered their lot are also those which deprived us of pigeons. Perhaps we now grieve because we are not sure, in our hearts, that we have gained by the exchange. The gadgets of industry bring us more comfort than the pigeons did, but do they add as much to the glory of the spring?”

According to Leopold, improvements to quality of human life made in the name of progress are tempered by the ways in which these improvements have cut off people from nature. This quote highlights this tension: For many people, modernization has not been an unmitigated success, and it leaves people searching for experiences they can no longer find, such as the flight of a flock of pigeons or the experience of being isolated in nature. This quote also highlights the intergenerational nature of this loss: The actions of one generation have impacts on what the subsequent generation is able to enjoy.

“The elemental simplicities of wilderness travel were thrills not only because of their novelty, but because they represented complete freedom to make mistakes. The wilderness gave them their first taste of those rewards and penalties for wise and foolish acts which every woodsman faces daily, but against which civilization has built a thousand buffers. These boys were ‘on their own’ in this particular sense.” 

At several points in the book, Leopold celebrates nature as offering people an experience of total liberty, either in the form of a hobby that does not conform to conventional expectations about what is productive, or, in this case, in the autonomy and freedom that come from some forms of outdoor recreation, as was experienced on a canoe trip by two young men exploring the Wisconsin wilderness. This quote also points to the importance of isolation, which is one of the drivers for spending time in nature, and which is increasingly hard to find, as more wild spaces are developed.

“We all strive for safety, prosperity, comfort, long life, and dullness. The deer strives with his supple legs, the cowman with trap and poison, the statesman with pen, the most of us with machines, votes, and dollars, but it all comes to the same thing: peace in our time. A measure of success in this is all well enough, and perhaps is a requisite to objective thinking, but too much safety seems to yield only danger in the long run.” 

In this quote, Leopold is referring not only to the drive for security and stability that has created an excessively safe experience of existence for many modern people, but also the way in which humans have sought to extend that predictability to the landscape, through the elimination of predators, the management of fields and forests to favor certain species, and so on. As this quote suggests, such attempts almost inevitably backfire, as humans have imperfect knowledge of natural systems and can’t predict all possible outcomes. As a result, just as too much stability has people longing for the unpredictability they encounter through outdoor recreation, so, too, do attempts to boost game populations through the elimination of wolves, for example, lead to out-of-control deer numbers that have to be controlled through other means.

“Man always kills the thing he loves, and so we the pioneers have killed our wilderness. Some say we had to. Be that as it may, I am glad I shall never be young without wild country to be young in. Of what avail are forty freedoms without a blank spot on the map?” 

This reflection comes after Leopold’s writings on his time spent exploring the Colorado Delta, a vast wilderness that has, since his youth, been transformed into farmers’ fields. As this quote suggests, that transformation does not come from a place of hate, but rather a calculation that it was a necessary price to pay for progress; elsewhere in the book, Leopold notes that people are at risk of loving the remaining wilderness to death out of a drive to possess nature. This quote also speaks to Leopold’s authority in writing the book, as someone who has spent much time in the wilderness and has seen great transformations to that wilderness in his own lifetime.

“There are men charged with the duty of examining the construction of the plants, animals, and soils which are the instruments of the great orchestra. These men are called professors. Each selects one instrument and spends his life taking it apart and describing its strings and sounding boards. This process of dismemberment is called research. The place for dismemberment is called a university.” 

Leopold points to how the formal sciences, in which every researcher is devoted to studying one species or phenomenon, are out of step with natural systems that are complex and interrelated. This quote also highlights how the sciences come to serve industry, which is interested in how to manage the land for the benefit of one species—homo sapiens—without considering the rights of other species and the importance of ecosystems. Such an approach not only is blind to the wisdom found in nature, but also perpetuates this ignorance in that it valorizes the formal scientific disciplines as a higher form of achievement than the knowledge generated by amateurs, such as amateur naturalists who spend decades observing the land and often make important discoveries through their observations.

“Poor land may be rich country, and vice versa. Only economists mistake physical opulence for riches. Country may be rich despite a conspicuous poverty of physical endowment, and its quality may not be apparent at first glance, nor at all times.” 

With this quote, Leopold is highlighting an important theme: the inadequacy of economic value when applied to nature. As Leopold notes repeatedly throughout the book, what counts as economically valuable may not be good for the land; by the same token, land that is valuable from an ecosystem standpoint may not hold any economic value. This discrepancy poses a problem for conservation, since it means that land could be destroyed at any time, if that were to be the more profitable action, and leaves governments, since they’re not motivated solely by profit, as the only entities expected to undertake conservation. What is needed instead, Leopold thinks, is a conservation ethic, so that people can come to see the value in “poor land” and be motivated to protect it.

“It is an axiom that no hobby should either seek or need rational justification. To wish to do it is reason enough. To find reasons why it is useful or beneficial converts it at once from an avocation into an industry—lowers it at once to the ignominious category of an ‘exercise’ undertaken for health, power, or profit. Lifting dumbbells is not a hobby. It is a confession of subservience, not an assertion of liberty.”

Leopold is describing how hobbies—particularly those practiced in nature—help people exercise their full human faculties, as they serve to liberate individuals from conventional expectations. These hobbies can help enrich humanity’s understanding of the natural world—for instance, through the observations of amateur naturalists—even if the formal system of education does not always respect these insights. This quote also points to Leopold’s argument against economic value; insofar as they eschew conventional notions of what constitute “productive” activities, hobbies challenge the primacy of economic forms of value and therefore help establish a conservation ethic.

“Two centuries of conservation have not sufficed to restore these losses. It required the modern microscope, and a century of research in soil science, to discover the existence of these ‘small cogs and wheels’ which determine harmony or disharmony between men and land in the Spessart.” 

This quote sets up a problem that Leopold raises throughout the book: Once ecosystems and species disappear, they are very difficult to replace. Much of this difficulty comes from ignorance; as humanity does not fully understand the natural world, it cannot easily replicate its processes. However, it also comes from an ignorance of processes as such—as Leopold notes, the greatest scientific insight of the 20th century has been the realization of the interconnectedness of ecosystems, which is therefore a relatively new insight. Nonetheless, many conservation initiatives continue to be focused on single species, thus missing how these species are connected to their environments, and to people.

“Here we are in an abandoned field in which the ragweed is sparse and short. Does this tell us anything about why the mortgage was foreclosed? About how long ago? Would this field be a good place to look for quail? Does short ragweed have any connection with the story behind yonder graveyard? If all the ragweed in this watershed were short, would that tell us anything about the future of floods in the stream? About the future prospects for bass or trout?” 

Leopold laments how intelligent students of the sciences are nonetheless ignorant of the natural world due to the emphasis science has placed on learning within laboratory settings. Nonetheless, as noted here in Leopold’s characteristic literary style, there is much to learn from observation. With the mention of the connection between a foreclosure and the state of the land, Leopold is also pointing to another theme of the book, that of the connection—or rather, the disconnect—between economy and the environment.

“We shall never achieve absolute harmony with land, any more than we shall achieve absolute justice or liberty for people. In these higher aspirations, the important thing is not to achieve, but to strive.” 

Coming after a passage in which Leopold identified problems with the way in which the formal sciences conceive of the natural world, this quote speaks to the need for a democratization of the relationship to nature; to understand people’s role as part of a broader ecological community, one does not need a formal training focused on achievement, but instead an ethical relationship to the land—one founded on the intention to strive for a more respectful relationship. As Leopold notes elsewhere in the book, the extension of ethical obligations to more categories of people throughout history has not ended injustice but has improved lives; similarly, an ethical relationship to nature would better preserve the integrity of the land. This quote also speaks to the book’s mission: not to create perfection in humanity’s relationship to nature, but to help stem the tide of destruction and bring about a more harmonious coexistence.

“This state of doubt about the fundamentals of human population behavior lends exceptional interest, and exceptional value, to the only available analogue: the higher animals. Errington, among others, has pointed out the cultural value of these animal analogues. For centuries this rich library of knowledge has been inaccessible to us because we did not know where or how to look for it. Ecology is now teaching us to search in animal populations for analogies to our own problems.” 

Leopold speaks to the role of nature as teacher, noting that by losing wilderness, we not only lose opportunities to understand natural systems, but also lose potential avenues to better understand ourselves. This is but one way in which wildlife benefits human beings; by listing these benefits, Leopold is crafting an argument for the valuation of nature that goes beyond economic forms of valuation. By positioning human behavior on a continuum with that of other animals, Leopold is also underscoring the ways in which human beings are part of natural communities.

“Critics write and hunters outwit their game primarily for one and the same reason—to reduce that beauty to possession. The differences are largely matters of degree, consciousness, and that sly arbiter of the classification of human activities, language. If, then, we can live without goose music, we may as well do away with starts, or sunsets, or Iliads. But the point is that we would be fools to do away with any of them.”

In this quote, Leopold is comparing the beauty of nature to forms of human-created beauty such as Homer’s Iliad; in other words, natural beauty is no less valuable for not having been created by humans, and it may be even more precious, insofar as it cannot be re-created. With this quote, Leopold is not arguing for the destruction of important works such as the Iliad but is instead arguing that the same set of principles should be applied to natural phenomena such as the honking of geese. Finally, by noting that the undervaluing of nature stems from human systems of classification, Leopold is advancing an argument for how this undervaluing could change, through changing human perspectives.

“All ethics so far evolved rest upon a single premise: that the individual is a member of a community of interdependent parts. His instincts prompt him to compete for his place in the community, but his ethics prompt him also to co-operate (perhaps in order that there may be a place to compete for).” 

In Part 4, Leopold notes that ethical progression is already part of the human story; over the course of history, humans expanded the community of individuals seen as having rights to include more people, tempering their own self-interested impulses along the way. The next step in this process is to extend this community to include all of nature—a logical step, according to Leopold, since human beings are necessarily part of the broader planetary community, whether they recognize it or not. With this quote, Leopold is also hinting at the consequences of disregarding this relationship; if there is no ethical obligation to the land, and therefore no check on self-interest, humans may exhaust the planet’s resources, undermining the very interests they’re intent on pursuing.

“When one asks why no rules have been written, one is told that the community is not yet ready to support them; education must precede rules. But the education actually in progress makes no mention of obligations to land over and above those dictated by self-interest. The net result is that we have more education but less soil, fewer healthy woods, and as many floods as in 1937.” 

This quote points to an important theme in the book, that of nature as a teacher. An education that is alienated from the land cannot foster a sense of ethical obligation; without this connection to the land, even an educated individual will be motivated by self-interest. In the case of this quote, this meant that initiatives to encourage Wisconsin farmers to conserve their soil, though adopted according to the letter of the law, did not result in conservation gains, because education around these initiatives did not change any attitudes; therefore, farmers continued to act in their own interest, rather than that of the community, which led to more depleted soil and unhealthy forests.

“Land, then, is not merely soil; it is a fountain of energy flowing through a circuit of soils, plants, and animals. Food chains are the living channels which conduct energy upward; death and decay return it to the soil. The circuit is not closed; some energy is dissipated in decay, some is added by absorption from the air, some is stored in soils, peats, and long-lived forests; but it is a sustained circuit, like a slowly augmented revolving fund of life.”

This quote is drawn from a passage in which Leopold discusses the land pyramid—the web of relationships in which each successive layer supports a smaller number of beings, with humans at the apex. As this quote illustrates, this pyramid is a stable structure, which nourishes beings and is nourished in turn. By laying out the natural harmoniousness and stability of ecosystems, Leopold is underscoring the extent of humanity’s disruption of these systems; because the pyramid is a complex web of relationships, the removal of one element—for example, through the extirpation of a predator—has cascading effects. Moreover, humanity’s use of technology has enabled these changes to happen at a rapid rate, compared to a previous rate of change that gave the system time to adapt.

“In all of these cleavages, we see repeated the same basic paradoxes: man the conqueror versus man the biotic citizen; science the sharpener of his sword versus science the searchlight on his universe; land the slave and servant versus land the collective organism. Robinson’s injunction to Tristam may well be applied at this juncture, to Homo sapiens as a species in geological time:

Whether you will or not

You are a King, Tristam, for you are one

Of the time-tested few that leave the world,

When they are gone, not the same place it was.

Mark what you leave.”

With this quote Leopold is highlighting a tension in conservation between those motivated to preserve the land’s ability to produce economic value for human purposes, and those who see conservation as serving the good of ecosystems. This dichotomy has implications for land management practices, such as in forestry, in deciding whether to plant those trees that grow fastest or the ones that support a healthy ecosystem. The latter presupposes a view of human beings as part of a broader community that depends on the collective organism, as Leopold writes here, rather than seeing humans as the conquerors of the world. Finally, in drawing on a quote from the poet Edwin Arlington Robinson, Leopold is once again evoking the connection between nature and culture, as he does at several other points throughout the book.

“There are those who decry wilderness sports as ‘undemocratic’ because the recreational carrying capacity of a wilderness is small, as compared with a golf links or tourist camp. The basic error in such argument is that it applies the philosophy of mass-production to what is intended to counteract mass-production. The value of recreation is not a matter of ciphers. Recreation is valuable in proportion to the intensity of its experiences, and to the degree to which it differs from and contrasts with workaday life.” 

In the latter half of the book, Leopold considers the value of outdoor recreation and how this activity can be managed to ensure people derive the greatest possible benefit. For Leopold this means limiting development of wilderness areas so that people can continue to experience a sense of isolation while in nature and preventing the mechanization of wilderness travel (through roads and motorboats) so that people can continue to derive satisfaction from travel by foot and canoe. While this necessarily means fewer people on the landscape, Leopold questions whether mass access to wild spaces is consistent with the existence of wilderness; instead, the preservation of wilderness depends on people sacrificing their self-interest—in this case, their interest in unfettered, easy access to wild spaces—for the greater good.

“Ability to see the cultural value of wilderness boils down, in the last analysis, to a question of intellectual humility. The shallow-minded modern who has lost his rootage in the land assumes that he has already discovered what is important; it is such who prate of empires, political or economic, that will last a thousand years. It is only the scholar who appreciates that all history consists of successive excursions from a single starting-point, to which man returns again and again to organize yet another search for a durable scale of values.” 

At the end of the book, Leopold notes that once wilderness is lost, it cannot be replaced; as such, it is important for all members of society to develop a conservation ethic in order to prevent further loss of wild places; as Leopold writes, if only some people are working to preserve the wild, others will inevitably erode it. Part of establishing this ethic is to teach people about their connection to the land; as Leopold describes in this quote, someone who is educated about ecology, and about the human role in the broader ecological community, will understand the importance of protecting ecosystems both for the sake of wild beings, and for the good of human societies.