We often write about restoration projects in Coast & Ocean when they are launched, but less frequently report on results. So last January, when a public tour of the Sonoma Baylands was offered as part of the San Francisco Flyway Festival, I signed up.

We had devoted much of the Autumn 1994 issue to the Sonoma Tidal Marsh Restoration Project ("A Marriage Made in Mud") because it was unprecedented and amazing in its day. The Coastal Conservancy had brought together groups that often clashed on environmental issues, including the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, Port of Oakland, commercial fishermen, and conservation organizations. All found enlightened self-interest in collaborating on an effort to restore lost habitat for two small endangered marsh dwellers. These were not poster species, like the sea otter, whale, or wolf, they were small gray creatures hardly anyone had ever even seen. The salt marsh harvest mouse lives in pickleweed, the California clapper rail inhabits cordgrass, and both keep to themselves. Yet their presence--or absence--became the rationale for a multi-million-dollar project that would benefit many other species and would solve several urgent human problems. (Click here to see a scan of the article 1. Click here to see article 2.)

On a breezy Saturday I joined a small group and our tour guide, Coastal Conservancy Project Manager Tom Gandesbery, at Port Sonoma-Marin, off Route 37 on San Pablo Bay. I had last seen the Baylands when it was a huge construction site. Now, as we hiked toward the breach in the outer levee where the tide flows in, we were impressed. Willets, curlews, and other shorebirds were pecking for food in the mudflats. Ducks and other waterbirds swam peacefully here and there. We heard calls we tried to identify, raised our binoculars, and ourselves uttered calls typical of novice enthusiasts: "Oh look! Is that . . . ? Or is it . . . ? No, I think it's . . ." It was fun, exhilarating and there sure were birds aplenty.

Walking back to our cars we marveled at how vigorously the wetland had returned. Sure, this was an engineered marsh, it didn't look quite natural, but wind and water were already polishing the rough work of hydrologists and engineers. "Nature is resilient," someone said.

Nature is resilient. That's what I came away with, and it's a joy and an inspiration. Sea-level rise may revise some projections, but nature, with just a little help from human friends, will take over. What a comfort. As we worry about the future, how marvelous it is to see the results of decades-long efforts to remedy what was destroyed by ignorance.

Along Big Sur, we can now see condors in free flight. Pelicans have returned from near-extinction and again are part of our coastal scene. The Aleutian Canada goose population was just 700 in the '70s; now it is around 100,000. The Sonoma Baylands project pioneered an approach that was followed by others. Since it began, 40,000 acres have been preserved for habitat and agriculture in the region between Novato and Vallejo. Highway 37 is being promoted as "the North Bay flyway highway." (Go to www.yourwetlands.org for an audio or video tour.) Sea-level rise may revise some hopes for the future, but this marsh may be able to retreat inland, along with the clapper rail, the harvest mouse, pelicans, willets, and other marsh inhabitants.

All this was made possible by a perceptual shift in our society during the 1970s that catalyzed action that led to the Endangered Species Act, the Clean Water Act, the Coastal Act, and other life-saving laws. These enabled creative citizens and public servants to craft imaginative projects that proved that our well-being and that of the natural environment are inseparable.

Now with the stark recognition of global warming, another perceptual shift is under way. My e-mail inbox keeps being flooded with news of small but sensible and imaginative actions being taken by individuals, communities, and industry to diminish carbon emissions. Stupid things are also being promoted by cynical interests or people who have not thought through the interconnections. It sure doesn't make sense to grow corn to burn, destroying rainforests and wild lands--and in the process leading to a rise in the price of tortillas in Mexico--just so we don't have to get out of our private cars. But common sense is pushing up the grass roots and, as we have surely learned, little victories prepare the way for big ones. If none of this saves us during the growing climate crisis, if we act more responsibly we at least will be healthier and happier.

To nurture the energy and spirit needed for today's challenges, we need to take time to acknowledge and enjoy what has been accomplished thus far. That's our most basic, most important assignment at this moment, because it will help to show us what we can do.

--Rasa Gustaitis

To reach the Sonoma Baylands, take Highway 37 to Port Sonoma-Marin, park and walk.