Concrete Jungle: as climate change worsens, New Yorkers are getting some wild new neighbors
By: Katherine Gross
It is foggy and the sky is as grey and unforgiving as asphalt, which makes this a horrible day to find bugs. While roaming Brooklyn Bridge Park, Pawel Pieluszynski gently pushes aside spindly branches and clusters of neon-green leaves, meticulously checking trees for the glint of a shell or the skittering movement that differentiates vegetative life from arthropodic. What few insects we see are your garden-variety bees, spiders, and beetles, and my strained eyes are beginning to mistake every movement for a bug; Pieluszynski shows me pictures of his past findings on his phone, and my periphery is haunted by ghost insects that slither over the ridges of my gooseflesh and leave me feeling jumpy and unsettled. The Brooklyn Bridge looms above us like an exoskeleton.
The tree we’ve stopped at near Pier 1 is occupied by the egg case of a Carolina Mantid, and if not for Pieluszynski’s trained eye, it would’ve been easily mistaken for a bird dropping. Although this one seems cozy, it’s part of a new and foreign family — Carolina Mantids are the only mantids native to New York City, despite the several invasive species that now live here. Its intrusive cousins came up from further south, and are spending their time in the Northeast doing what mantids do best: eating pollinators, having sex, then eating the male mantid’s brain after sex. Perhaps as a form of karmic retribution, Pieluszynski eats the invasive species in tacos.
The city is crawling with life, he says, which most New Yorkers maybe don’t appreciate in the same way that he does. While your average city-dweller might see a cockroach as disgusting, Pieluszynski, a gardener and ecological horticulturist specializing in insects for the city’s Parks Department, sees it as periplaneta americana (“I still kill them, though,” he adds). And although some might think ‘concrete jungle’ is an accurate name for a city with only 14 percent green space, others like Pieluszynski see the city as teeming with a diverse breadth of animalia that now, more than ever, needs protecting.
“Insects are the basis of the food world, and they feed a lot of things that we find important,” says Pieluszynski. “But I think of nature conservation not as what-they-can-do-for-us, but rather, that every organism has its own dignity and a right to exist.”
Thus, the bug walk on a rainy Thursday morning.
What Pawel does as a gardener is a form of reconciliation ecology, which he describes as “repenting for the sins of humanity through ecological conservation.” This can take many forms: such as reintroducing native wildlife, controlling the populations of invasive species, and reimagining urban development in new and sustainable ways. What scientists have to grapple with now, however, is a time constraint.
With less than a decade left before climate change is irreversible, and because metropolises are major producers of greenhouse gas emissions, New York is actively trying to reduce its carbon footprint through methods like reconciliation ecology. However, in cities, conversations about the daily impact of global warming are often centered around anthropocentric social issues like food shortages, changes in daily weather patterns, and polarized news content. This is understandable– if in your daily life you rarely see untamed nature, why should the changing migratory patterns of fish concern you?
“Because it means something if they’re lost,” answers Dr. John Waldman, aquatic conservation biologist and professor at Queens College, who specializes in the changing migratory patterns of fish in the Hudson. “We see an implosion of our local ecosystem if we continue to treat it badly. As we lose populations, we lose some of the moving parts of an ecology, and we lose resilience because our species can’t make up the differences.”
But if the only animals New Yorkers are used to seeing are cockroaches, rats, and pigeons, it might be difficult to realize that we are already experiencing dramatic changes in our urban ecology. As climate change forces animals out of their old habitats, and efforts to clean up the city improve our own, a miraculous amount of wildlife is returning to New York. And these ecological changes don’t just affect the new animals making their homes in the city, or the ones fleeing it, but also the daily behavior of the species that remain.
Of course, not all New Yorkers are blind to this issue — but for the ones who see the problem as it is, the study of urban wildlife isn’t just important for mitigating climate change, but also because how we treat animals and native populations speaks to our values as a society. If we don’t pay attention to (or don’t care about) other forms of life, advocates say, we’re going to be in for a nasty wake-up call when it inevitably starts to impact our own.
Mother Nature and the Big Apple
Outside the Brooklyn wetlands where I left Pawel to his bugs, the murky East River churns as a ferry called the Time Traveler hauls itself downstream towards the Statue of Liberty and the factories that sit on the water’s edge. Fifty years ago, this river scene would have looked (and smelled) dramatically different.
Prior to the passing of the EPA’s 1972 Clean Water Act, hundreds of millions of pounds of raw sewage and industrial waste from these factories was dumped directly into the Hudson River every day, which collected at the feet of Lady Liberty in New York Harbor. Dr. Waldman described this spot to the New York Times as an “open sewer,” where ten feet of human waste collected at the bottom and there was little to no air for the native fish populations, if they even dared to swim amongst the trash and oil slicks.
The lasting effects of the Clean Water Act, plus an increase in spending for waste treatment and other related policies like the Clean Air Act and the Endangered Species Act, is transforming the ecology of the city’s aquatic wildlife. Species that had once abandoned the city have since returned: including alewife, bald eagles, oysters, and seahorses. Bobcats, beavers, and minx (oh my!) roam the shores of the Bronx River, baby seals and rare turtles swim in Queens, and whales and dolphins have started making their way back into the Hudson. Aquatic animals are not the only ones making the move: coyotes were spotted in Central Park; rare and native bees now swarm blueberry bushes in Brooklyn; black vultures are making rare moves north; and there is a 3,304 percent increase in deer in Staten Island.
“Overall, the story is one of recovery from absence in the city,” says Tod Winston, Associate Director of Content for New York City’s Audubon chapter. “Despite all of this acreage of cement and glass, millions of birds still come through here, and that makes the little green oases we have– in the form of all of our parks– super important.”
Although these unusual sightings in an urban environment may suggest the return of biodiversity to the city, spotting an animal in a new environment is not always a good sign. As animals consider the city increasingly habitable, their movement away from the surrounding ecosystems also indicates something amiss about their previous homes. Most importantly, New York’s animals are not alone — this migration is happening worldwide, which scientists are calling the biggest mass movement of species since the peak of the Ice Age 25,000 years ago.
“Their troubles are all connected to our troubles, and to man made climate change,” says Winston. “Some of these beach nesting birds are more vulnerable to these changes than some people are, in the same way that canaries are more vulnerable to gas changes in a mine. So you see the canary in trouble before the people are, but the people are going to be in trouble soon.”
In the past, animal habitat loss was predominantly the result of human movement: the growth of cities would increase light, noise, water, and air pollution; while deforestation, overfishing, and pesticides would reduce or eliminate food sources. Now, climate change has exacerbated all of these issues by changing temperatures and sea levels, weather patterns, and food access. It’s ironic, in a way: we traded our eternity for our modernity.
“There’s evidence now that the migratory fish are arriving earlier in the spring because the water is warmer sooner than when it was in the older times,” says Dr. Waldman. This warmer weather also shifts the migration patterns of insects and birds — and when the creatures on the bottom of the food chain begin to move, the predators must follow.
But why would they come to a city that never sleeps? In Darwin Comes to Town: How the Urban Jungle Drives Evolution, Menno Schilthuizen proposes four ideas for why cities are becoming increasingly biodiverse: because of this inward migration; the city’s location was originally biologically rich, that’s why civilization gathered there; the loss of good-quality habitats directly outside of the city; and the diversity of different habitats within the city. This is proven in New York’s case, as we consider: the current migration trend; its location on the Atlantic Flyway and the Hudson River estuary; the high rate of pollution and urban sprawl surrounding the city; and the high rate of biodiversity in the city’s green space.
“As we have seen before, cities are like mad scientists, creating their own crazy ecological concoctions by throwing all kinds of native and foreign elements into the urban melting pot,” says Schilthuizen.
Interestingly, the city as a microcosm actually provides scientists with an opportunity to study how animals might adapt to climate change. In 2016, scientists studying killifish in the highly-polluted Newark Bay realized that the fish adapted an amazing genetic tactic to survive in contaminated water. After examining other equally-resilient killifish populations who adapted this same trait when faced with environmental pressures, the study presented compelling evidence that in large and diverse populations, a member with an advantageous genetic mutation to a threat like pollution could survive, and natural selection would create an equally-adapted population. If scientists can figure out what traits Mother Nature might favor, they could predict evolution — and maybe then be able to better buffer species from the effects of climate change.
But to quote a famous New York City human-insect hybrid: with great power, comes great responsibility. Why try to play God with nature, when we already created climate change?
“We have this extreme influence on everything that happens on this planet,” says Dan Fagin, a Pulitzer-prize winning environmental journalist and Director of New York University’s Science, Health, and Environmental Reporting program. “But we don’t necessarily have the judgment to figure out what’s the right thing to do.”
And even if we can predict evolution, that still doesn’t mean we’re saved. “At first sight this study might tell us, well, it will all be fine,” said evolutionary ecologist Dr. Michael Tobler to the New York Times when the killifish study was published. “These killifish can do it, and there’s probably many species out there that can respond in this particular manner, but there’s probably going to be lots of species out there that can’t.”
Scientists need time to develop better ways of testing and utilizing these mutations, and unfortunately, time’s running out. Many scientists agree that most animals are not adapting fast enough to global warming — and the loss of the million-plus species currently at risk for extinction would critically impair the study of these adaptations. George McKenzie Jr., a BedStuy-native and urban wildlife photographer for National Geographic, encourages people not to situate this loss of biodiversity anthropocentrically.
“Most people when they think of climate change, think ‘Oh, Florida’s gonna flood, waves are going to crush New York’ — in all honesty, this world will exist without us. But we need all these animals,” he says. We are dependent on them for the security of our freshwater, nutrition sources, energy, and scientific development. “Without them, we can’t survive.”
The wild is calling. Who answers?
It’s a perfect spring Saturday in Queens, and it seems like the whole world is enjoying the morning at Baisley Pond Park. A slight breeze holds the temperature at a sunny 73 degrees, and sparrows flit between the tall grasses in the marshlands; young couples smoke weed by the water while flushed-faced families fresh out of a PTA fun run release their tireless elementary schoolers onto the playground. It’s a day that begs you to be lazy, to stroll, to wear a t-shirt, to look up ice cream shops and be late to events, so when I finally stumble into the garden pavilion of the Mother Carter Center I know it’s the right spot when I hear howling.
The Parks Department is hosting one of their many Urban Park Rangers events today, and this one is dedicated to teaching the people of Queens (via seven taxidermied mammals) about New York’s native wildlife. When I arrive, the park rangers are telling a family of five about how coyotes look different from domesticated dogs because of their yellow eyes, and a young boy is celebrating his newfound knowledge by yowling. “Exactly,” one of the rangers says, “coyotes also do that.”
The Parks Department hosts these weekly urban wildlife events across the five boroughs to familiarize New Yorkers with the new and native animal populations that may share the same greenspaces. With these initiatives, the Parks Department is hoping to teach thousands of New Yorkers about the other species that call this city home, and the habits to practice if they want them to stay as neighbors.
“It’s nice to be able to bring this to people,” says Harry Aguilar, one of the rangers. “I have family that lives down the street from here, I grew up here, so it’s great we’re able to come to communities like this that don’t really have this kind of stuff.”
But unfortunately, the events are limited by the lack of Parks Department resources.
“Most people don’t even know this is a job,” says Aguilar. “We have people coming up to us all the time saying ‘wow, we love your event, how come we never met you before’ — well, because they got no money for us.”
Although New York City has 1,700+ parks, the Parks Department only snags 0.6 percent of the city’s yearly operating budget– which is down from the 1.3 percent they used to receive in the 1970s during the cleanup acts. This lack in funding inhibits the proper staffing of rangers, and limits equitable access to resources for maintenance and environmental sustainability programs. Calls to increase funding for parks, spearheaded by the non-profit New Yorkers for Parks, have existed for over 20 years — but as the coronavirus pandemic reaffirmed the need for greenspace, and climate change amplified concerns, these calls are becoming more dire.
“Parks are New Yorkers’ backyards, because so many of us don’t have backyards. So for us, the conservation of these large swathes of biodiverse land is important,” says Daniel Abram, Project Manager of Research and Policy at New Yorkers for Parks. “It’s egregious that we haven’t gotten to one percent [funding] yet, which is the type of money you find in the city’s couch. And that one percent is really the minimum to provide the maintenance that gets all parks to the same level of care.”
And while some parks may be in desperate need of helping hands, other city spaces are struggling with too much human involvement. To mitigate the negative impact humans had on the forests and wetlands, the Natural Areas Conservancy works to restore and conserve New York’s “green and blue” spaces. The wetlands are crucial in its fight against climate change, as they absorb CO2, reduce the urban heat island effect, and harbor 75 percent of New York’s threatened, endangered, or species of special concern.
“[Seeing how these species respond to climate change] will be increasingly important as the city considers how to help our communities become more resilient to shifts in storm severity and sea level rise,” says Georgina Cullman at the NAC.
But since Europeans touched down on New York’s shores, industrialization, sea-level rise, pollution, and invasive species have killed 99 percent of its freshwater wetland habitats.
“The decline in beach nesting birds is representative of a much larger problem: the competition for habitat between people and birds on these precious shoreline areas that birds need, but people use for recreational reasons,” says Winston, at Audubon.
So where, then, do these fleeing birds go, if they can manage to avoid hitting high-rises? Well, depending on the species, you might find them fluttering around an elephant at the Bronx Zoo, or peering out at you through the exhibit glass. Either way– according to Joe Nappi, a zookeeper on the Board of Directors for American Association of Zoo Keepers– if they’re at the zoo, they’re probably living well.
“There’s this misconception that we’re using these animals, but it’s really the reverse: everything goes back into the collection and protecting them in the wild,” says Nappi. “There’s a synergy between conservation and zoos– the whole purpose is to educate and connect guests to animals, especially for city-dwellers who aren’t going to be able to connect with animals in the wild.”
New York City is home to four zoos and one aquarium, who welcome four million visitors each year. Walking around Central Park Zoo, if you can squeak past the swarms of wobbly toddlers screaming Madagascar 3 quotes, you will inevitably run into signage displaying their conservation and education initiatives. Since 1908, the Wildlife Conservation Society– the NGO that runs the city’s zoos– has created more than 300 protected areas in over 40 countries, which shelter more than half of life on earth. WCS educational programs also reach close to one million youths annually– 84 percent of whom said they’d pursue a career in science after completing the course.
“I think [climate change] makes it easier to educate people [about conservation] because now they’re seeing these weather patterns,” says Nappi. “It’s important to tell people what’s going on, but at the same time you have to construct it in a way where people aren’t going to become apathetic and throw up their hands. You don’t want people to get into learned helplessness, where they just say they’ll continue to live their lives because there’s nothing they can do.”
In fact, these educational programs at zoos or the Parks Department could have a direct impact on how New Yorkers view climate change. While a general increase in educational level corresponds with pro-climate beliefs and behaviors, for the many New Yorkers who may lack access to high-quality education, these initiatives could provide a valuable visual aid.
“You need to know something in order to love it,” explains Winston at Audubon. “And when you love something, you want to protect it.”
So that’s when the cameras come in.
But for George McKenzie, Jr., documenting urban wildlife isn’t just about raising awareness about native populations — it’s also an opportunity to show future generations the beauty of everyday life. “Being a black wildlife photographer, you don’t see too many of us, especially from an urban environment,” he says. “But the only way to change the story is to change the storyteller.”
“[Photography] really changed my perspective. When you live in a city, pigeons and rats are even more important, because that’s what exposes you to wildlife,” says McKenzie Jr. “At times, we think we’re the God-species. We think we know better. But animals experience emotions, feelings, anxiety, fear, everything we experience. We all live in the same house, we just have different windows looking out.”
