Much of southern Nova Scotia belongs to this UNESCO Biosphere, and the at the center is Kejimkujik Lake, historic site and national park above. My cousin was instrumental in gaining early recognition for the area’s exceptional starlight and dark skies, making it a great place to stargaze. The visitor center has a couple beautiful birchbark canoes and exhibits on the First Nation people who have lived in the area since time immemorial.
Due to extreme fire conditions, the backcountry was closed during my visit, but a few lakeside trails were open. The lake was low, the air and forest dry, but the day was lovely and quiet. The climate change is even more visible to the north, and there were many fires burning in Newfoundland in September. The national park includes a seaside section on the southeast coast with nesting piping plovers on a (closed) beach from April to September, but the biosphere covers far more land, outside the core park, from Yarmouth to both southwest and southeast Nova Scotia.
This UNESCO Biosphere Reserve is in New Brunswick Canada, although the Bay of Fundy is also formed by Nova Scotia to the east. The photo is from the north end at Fort Beauséjour looking south towards where the water comes rushing in with the highest tides in the world. The shape of the bay both funnels the water and creates oscillation that magnifies the tidal surge. The tide is fairly low at this time but already covering some of the vast mudflats that attract thousands of shorebirds, especially sandpipers in mid summer that bulk up on mud shrimp to fly to South America.
Due to the silty water, tidal power has not been harnessed here yet. The Acadians built aboiteaux or sluice gates and dykes here to reclaim some of the nutrient-rich salt marsh land for the fields below. The star fort was taken by the British during one of their conflicts with the French, played a role in the expulsion of the Acadians, and was successfully defended against the Patriots during the American Revolution. But I visited the Bay of Fundy mainly to see the tides, and one of the few places in the world that you can actually see the tide rising is where the rivers empty into the bay. I watched the tidal bore come in near Maitland Nova Scotia, creating waves as the tide forced its way up river.
This is a model of the Gemeinhaus or community house of the Moravians in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, built between 1741 and 1743. The model is inside the original building, the largest 18th century log structure in continuous use in the US. There are several Moravian buildings from the same period in the historic district in Bethlehem, including housing for men and women, a pump house—the first municipal water system in the US—, a chapel, and a tavern, and all are now recognized as part of a UNESCO World Heritage Site that includes similar Moravian sites in the Denmark, Germany and the UK. Their school buildings are now part of Moravian University here.
The Moravians, a Protestant sect that predated Martin Luther, originally came from Moravia, now the Czech Republic, but their prime benefactor was a Saxon (German), Count von Zinzendorf, so their Bible is in old, low German. They created settlements around the world in order to do Missionary work, and in Pennsylvania, they were famous for their hospitality, music and for their early efforts to learn Native American languages and hold peaceful conferences with both native and colonial leaders.
The Gemeinhaus was multifunctional, especially before other buildings were finished, and one use was as an inn. The knowledgeable docent led me into the large simple chapel on the second floor, a music room with various instruments that predate the famed Bach Choir of Bethlehem, and explained various exhibits with original items, including fine silk needlework, kitchen items and more. While many of the later buildings are still in use by the University and as housing, the core building’s remarkable preservation makes this is an exceptional way to step back over 250 years into colonial, and early American history. But also walk around the fascinating historic town, which includes an 18th century Native American house.
But my favorite building is the Sun Inn tavern from 1758, where George & Martha Washington stayed, Sam Adams drank ale, and an impressively long list of revolutionaries met over many years. It seems likely to me that Ben Franklin would have met members of the Iroquois Confederacy here, along with Moravian translators, inspiring him to incorporate their ideas into his design of our US democracy which balanced the needs of both the states and the country. There’s no better way to experience history than to raise a glass to our founders in one of their favorite drinking establishments!
This remote basin along the Apalachicola River of the Florida panhandle is a UNESCO protected biosphere and, along with Okefenokee in Georgia, is the main production area for Tupelo honey. The Peter Fonda movie Ulee’s Gold is set here, and beekeepers frequently boat around keeping track of their bees. Many of the stumps in the photo are white tupelo gum trees, while others are cypress. Tupelo means ‘swamp tree’ in Muskogee, and Elvis’ hometown of Tupelo Mississippi has black gum trees.
Technically the photo shows the Dead Lakes on the outskirts of the preserve, but a bit past the Chipola River Bridge is the Gaskin Park boat ramp, where you can access the core area. Due to the high density of large reptiles, I decided against kayaking. But the river, swamp, floodplains, estuary, mudflats, forest, seagrass beds and barrier islands here comprise a uniquely diverse, remote, and unpolluted ecosystem, supporting many unusual and endangered species, including more reptiles and amphibians than anywhere else in the country, black bear, manatee, hundreds of species of birds, and a critical nursery for fish and shellfish. ⭐
This post marks the end of my trip to Florida and the Southeast region of the contiguous US. Next Monday I’ll post about a world heritage site in the Mid Atlantic region.
The highlight of my trip to Baja California last month was seeing Gray Whales (see videos below) in the Ojo de Liebre—hare’s eye—Lagoon, in the northeastern corner of the huge Vizcaíno biosphere and world heritage site in central Baja. I must thank the legendary Shari Bondi for organizing the experience, as there’s an element of magic required to bring people and whales together well. Unlike any whale watching experience I’ve ever had, the gray whales can be quite friendly. One female approached my boat, stuck her nose up and touched my hand.
The rock art mountains are also within the Vizcaíno preserve, along with several other lagoons popular among winter-breeding gray whales and turtles. Since the lagoons are closely regulated, the only way to see these whales is to join a tour. Since the winter season is short, the tour guides typically work with local hotels and add lagoon-side camps. You may find it difficult to book a room in Guerrero Negro around February, unless you book a package tour. Some visitors spend days on site, taking multiple whale watching trips. Enjoy!
The full name of the world heritage site is ‘Islands and Protected Areas of the Gulf of California’, and the UNESCO site covers much of the old Sea of Cortez which Jacques Cousteau once called ‘the world’s aquarium’. Many of the mountainous islands in the gulf are home to unique species—including a rattle-less rattlesnake—and are protected from development, including the island of Espíritu Santo near La Paz. Last month I visited many of the gulf’s bays on the Baja peninsula, including Bahías de Los Ángeles, Concepción, Loreto and La Paz. In the Loreto national marine park, I saw bottlenose dolphin and fin, humpback and blue whales, including those blues in the videos below.
Earlier this month I visited Sierra de San Francisco in central Baja Mexico to see the prehistoric rock paintings which are a world heritage site. They are spread out over a vast, mountainous area and just to see a few requires a 5 day group trek on burro to reach several different caves. One closer site, El Ratón—called ‘the rat’ but meant to be a cougar—, is a short hike off a long, well-paved road. Unfortunately, it’s not the best of the rock paintings, as the alcove is fairly open and the art has faded. The small free museum in San Ignacio is overseen by an official who provides required passes out of his office next door, when he’s there. Hiring a local guide is required along with paying various government fees. For a solo Baja driver, it’s best to visit El Ratón on the way back north, as the cave road is north of San Ignacio, where you must pay first. Group tours can be reserved from San Ignacio, Loreto, and Guerrero Negro. Frankly, I recommend just going to the museum and making a donation. There you can see some good photographs of several of the best examples, along with a large reproduction, above, to give you a sense of how they are displayed on alcoves and in caves. Traveling through Baja, you see reproductions in many public spaces, proudly reflecting the internationally renowned 2000 year old cave art, the cultural remnants of the Cochimí people.
Earlier this month, I visited El Pinacate y Gran Desierto de Altar [literally ‘the stink beetle and the great high desert’]. It’s a UNESCO Biosphere and World Heritage Site in Sonora Mexico, and it’s a sister park to Organ Pipe Cactus NM across the border in Arizona. A dozen pronghorn scampered through the various cactus, but unfortunately the border wall prevents many species from moving freely in their natural habitat. The main attraction is ten large volcanic craters, including the deep, symmetrical Elegante below. The landscape is extraordinary and otherworldly, with long black lava walls, cinder cones, sand dunes, various cacti, bushes, shrubs and wildflowers. There is enough rainfall to support birds, reptiles and wildlife like big horn sheep. Some folks camp overnight to experience the vast dark skies, far from large human settlements.
A 2018 movie called Sonora was filmed here, and the movie describes the desert as both the middle of nowhere and ‘the devil’s highway’. A few years ago some criminals moved into the area, but they are gone now. The roads are severely washboarded, sandy and sometimes are blocked by local landholders due to disputes over compensation, so I hired a driver, a van and a guide. There are no facilities to speak of, so you need to bring whatever you need in and pack everything out. From the supercharger in Gila Bend, it’s more than a full charge round trip to Puerto Peñasco or Rocky Point where guided tours depart, so I charged at my hotel on the Playa Bonita. The local economy is still recovering from various border shutdowns and Covid, but the onsite park museum is expected to reopen soon, which will bring more visitors. But for my visit, I was happy to have the whole park to myself.
The Salmon River flows into the Pacific just out of sight between the headland and the beach above. The trail up here to the lower viewpoint starts at the boat launch, climbs through a lovely mossy old growth grove and crosses a few small bridges—the cascades were hidden in the brush—before reaching the meadow where a rare flower and butterfly live. There’s an upper viewpoint some 700 feet further up the hill, but I figured the closer view was better.
This UNESCO Biosphere is mostly on Nature Conservancy land, thanks to concerned citizens who rallied to protect it. Definitely needed the birdsong app: white-crowned sparrow, golden-crowned kinglet, chestnut-backed chickadee, pacific wren and a brown creeper, not to mention the usual coastal waterfowl and some raptor I couldn’t identify. Lovely spot on the Oregon coast with about a dozen other hikers on the trail on a beautiful day last fall.
This large UNESCO biosphere near Edmonton Alberta includes Elk Island National Park, which has hundreds of plains and wood bison. But Elk Island is fenced, so, as important as that park is for restoring the bison population, I came to see beaver. And on the Beaver Hills Biodiversity Trail, I saw several large beaver dens, like the one above.
Beaver are quite destructive, and their homes are surrounded by felled and drowned trees and pointy stumps. But they also create year round dens and dams with ponds and small lakes for many other species. Besides the many waterfowl, blue dragonflies, and chattery squirrels, I saw a magnificent golden eagle circle above the pond. And of course, I saw five or six beaver, swimming far from their dens, playing and occasionally climbing on branches to dry off, scratch or hang out.
When humans create zoos, safari parks or even national parks with fences, it’s not right to call the enclosed animals ‘wild’. Some may have been born wild, but as long as they’re locked up, they’re no longer wild animals. Humans make the rules in those spaces, so, no matter how we try to copy nature, the spaces are artificial. But when beaver fell trees, build dams and create lakes, they make the rules. And the species gather there naturally. Beaver Hills is a natural area, filled with wild animals, and it is delightful to pause here and take in the peaceful balance of life.
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