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Take back the night: Establishing a "right to darkness" could save our night skies

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Tuesday, April 15, 2025

The technicolor Florida sunset had faded into darkness, and my extended family, assembled from two continents and three countries, gathered on the beach at Longboat Key to look at the stars. We were incredibly lucky that night in 1984, when I was seven, because a satellite came into view. With no clouds and few lights, it moved steadily like a bright little star across the dark, dark sky. We oohed. We ahhed. Today, some laypeople may still gather to watch a gaggle of newly-launched Starlink satellites, each designed for a lifetime of about 5 years, as they move through the sky like a string of pearls, or a long ellipse of unblinking stars. But the satellites are common enough these days that they often zip through the field of view of astronomers' telescopes, and their radio signals interfere with the signals used by those telescopes. With sunlight reflecting off their solar sails, at times satellites can be brighter than the stars that, from our viewpoint, surround them, and there are enough of them to brighten the night sky. There is little regulation of such space sources of light pollution. And work to better regulate and limit terrestrial, or ground-based, light pollution, while showing some promising results, is still in its infancy. Could an increasingly popular, intermittently successful legal argument involving what's called the Rights of Nature or more-than-human rights possibly reclaim our planet's dark skies? It sounds like a goth dream, but do we have a legal right to darkness? Is light pollution really that bad? It's a small step from annoyance to menace. While satellites offer many benefits, including environmental data gathering, with hundreds of thousands satellites expected to swarm the skies within the decade, we are looking at a genuine threat to the nighttime darkness within which we, and all living things, evolved over hundreds of thousands, in fact millions, of years. Not that satellites are the only concern. Light pollution from terrestrial sources has been a gradually growing menace to dark skies since the Industrial Revolution, as electrical lighting, explosive population growth, and dramatic increases in industry over the years have steadily brightened the sky while dimming the stars, especially near large urban centers. Since the advent of LEDs, though, the problem has become dramatically worse. The low cost, perceived environmental benefit, and abundant availability of LEDs has led to lights being used in entirely unnecessary ways. "Ground-based light pollution has been growing with urbanization, but there's an inflection point just a couple of years ago due to the arrival of LED lights, which have made it much easier to make much more light with less energy," astronomer James Lowenthal, also a dark skies advocate and professor of astronomy in Northampton, Massachusetts, told Salon in a video interview. "And not only are they bright, they're very blue ... It looks white to your eyes, it looks sparkling while, like an emergency room, operating room kind of light". "We see the stars less and less than we did just ten, twenty years ago." White light with that cool, bright white appearance, like intense moonlight, actually contains a higher proportion of short-wavelengths, the blue and green part of the visible spectrum. This cool blueish light is said to have a high temperature (the higher the temperature of light, the bluer it looks to us). In fact, the original LEDs that hit the market around 15 years ago had such a high temperature that when cities and towns installed them in street lights, people were horrified, Lowenthal said, describing "many cases of cities where citizens just revolted against what their city had done."  As most late-night computer users know by now, probably thanks to someone nagging at them, informatively but in vain, to get off the damn screen, blue light has effects on animal and human eyes, especially on older humans. "Just as blue sunlight scatters in the Earth's atmosphere and makes the sun look slightly less blue, light from a strong blue, rich white street light enters your eyeball, scatters around in your eyeball and causes a sort of gauzy veil of glare," Lowenthal explained.  There's more, though. The short wavelength blue light of LEDs bounces around more in the sky, intensifying the brightness of light pollution more than an equivalent amount of less blue light energy. To add insult to injury, our eyes' sensitivity shifts towards the blue end of the spectrum at night. That's why moonlight looks bluish, when it's actually the same color as sunlight. "And that's actually one of the main reasons that we see the stars less and less than we did just ten, twenty years ago," Lowenthal said. A few steps short of regulation As a result of these twin Earth-based and sky-based threats to the skies under which we all evolved, dark sky advocacy became a thing. So have dark-sky preserves, where light pollution is restricted; dark sky certification, which echoes programs such as the UNESCO World Heritage Sites; and dark skies as a marketing attraction.  The Dark and Quiet Skies report, a 2021 report commissioned by the United Nations Committee on the Peaceful Uses of Outer Space, notes from the first paragraphs the wide scope of dark sky advocacy — from the importance of that astronomical research for protecting the Earth from asteroids or for advancing scientific research that benefits all humanity, to the cultural significance of dark skies. Many Indigenous peoples use the stars for orientation as their ancestors did, and the panorama of stars serves as a "library" of Indigenous knowledge. Want more health and science stories in your inbox? Subscribe to Salon's weekly newsletter Lab Notes. "We are adapted to darkness. But I would say not just in a physiological way," Aparna Venkatesan, an astronomer at University of San Francisco, told Salon in a video interview, citing numerous studies on human creativity at night, the rich history of references to darkness in human languages and storytelling, and the prevalence of human origin stories — including the scientific account of the Big Bang — that begin with total darkness. Venkatesan, with astronomer and dark sky consultant John Barentine, coined the term "noctalgia," meaning "sky grief," to describe "the accelerating loss of the home environment of our shared skies." It's a loss that affects all of us but has intense implications for Indigenous people, for whom access to dark night skies is a vital factor in preserving traditions around navigation and calendaring. It even impacts food sovereignty, as pollinators are impacted by light pollution. "There's individual rights and community rights, including the rights of future generations and freedom of religion," Venkatesan said. "All of that is true, but I also want to advocate that we are part of the continuum, that darkness lives in our language, our storytelling, our identity, our science, our creativity. Really, much of our human identity rests with darkness." In response to concerns about terrestrial light pollution, dark sky preserves or parks have been springing up around the world (there are more than 120 in the U.S.), offering a distinct attraction for tourism as well as residents — and the ecosystems that are able to enjoy a kind of life that has become largely endangered, life where circadian rhythms follow the same schedule as our ancestors' did. Comparison showing the effects of light pollution on viewing the sky at night (Jeremy Stanley/Flickr/Wiki Commons)International Dark Sky Places is an international program of independent third-party certification of particular areas that apply to become IDSPs. Starting with Flagstaff, Arizona's appointment as the first Dark Sky City in 2001, the organization has certified dark sites, which can be communities, parks or protected areas, on six continents, 22 countries. There are now some 200 of them around the globe, representing 160,000 square kilometers of land on Earth from which you can see clear night skies, glittering heavens, the full starry span of the Milky Way rarely visible from cities or even the average over-illuminated suburb. Some of these are in the remote, austere sites that often serve as ideal sites for astronomical observatories. But not all of them.  There are practices of light pollution mitigation that can be learned and adopted if everyone in a given community is on board — or brought on board through policy decisions. But getting agreement and motivation to pursue dark sky certification status by working to achieve light pollution reduction targets is easier said than done. "There are no binding treaties that have to do with the night sky, with that type of environmental protection," Barentine told Salon in a video interview along with Venkatesan. That's even though certain U.N. instruments do mention it—the U.N. Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples and the underlying treaties establishing the United Nations Environment Programme are among these, he said. "At best, what we might get is a series of recommendations to members states of these different conventions that they could choose to enact if they wanted to."  "Much of our human identity rests with darkness." But voluntary standards for light pollution, like voluntary standards for much else where profit and community or ecosystem well-being might be at odds, have a habit of failing to meet the need, of being inconsistently applied, and of simply being ignored. In fact, Ben Price, director of education at the Community Environmental Legal Defence Fund, which assisted in establishment of the world's first community rights of nature legislation, notes that the establishment of minimum protected areas tends to be supported or even promoted by the corporations that cause greatest environmental harm, effectively maximizing the amount of harm that can be done everywhere else.  The federal Clean Air and Clean Water acts, and similar state laws, likewise set out in law just how much degradation or destruction of the natural world corporations or others can get away with. Partly as a result, environmental damage is far, far worse and natural habitats are far smaller and more fragmented than they were half a century ago, before these pieces of legislation existed. Price told Salon in a video interview that he enjoyed amateur astronomy as a child and plans to travel to a noted dark sky preserve in the Pennsylvania wilds. "But really, do you have to travel hours and hours to see the stars the way they actually come through?" he asked rhetorically. "Do we really need to have every damn thing on the surface of the Earth lit up?" Or in the sky — Price has also watched satellites and has memories of seeing Sputnik overhead. Legislation, Price believes, is the answer to bringing back the dark — as opposed to carving the Earth up into little pieces, a few fragments of which might achieve protected status. But with over two decades of work to advance rights of nature at the community level in the United States — nearly 200 communities have adopted CELDF-drafted community bill of rights laws including rights of nature — he believes that the entrenched domination of property rights in the U.S. means that it's going to be an uphill battle.   The damage done by bright skies In the law, reparations are often thought of in terms of damages. Well, there's plenty of damage to be redressed. Remember how our eyes naturally become more sensitive to the blue end of the visible spectrum at night? That's just one of the many known and other likely unrecognized ways in which even daylight-waking creatures like us have been conditioned by millions of years of evolving in a world with roughly equal hours of daylight and darkness.  Nocturnal animals obviously depend on having adequate darkness for the kind of eyesight they've evolved and the nighttime behavior they've evolved to carry out in the dark of night. But diurnal animals like humans, and crepuscular animals, like cats, that are naturally at their most active at dawn and at dusk, also have exquisitely calibrated chronobiology, with hormone patterns that change according to the light and processes that take place during either daytime, when the sun is out, or nighttime, when it's not.  Research demonstrating the negative health impacts of messing too much with our bodies' ingrained expectations about light and darkness has accumulated over decades. Light pollution is linked to a host of health harms. Exposure to artificial light when we should be asleep alters our production of the important hormone melatonin, increasing risks of obesity, reproductive problems, certain cancers such as breast and prostate cancer, and mood disorders, and negatively affects immune function. Seine et Marne on march the 6th 2021 at night. Taurus constellation. On this image we can see the effect of the movements of artificial satellites through the sky. On the left we can see the planet Mars, on the right the famous stars cluster the Pleiades (M45). From the bottom right the luminous trail of the satellite STARLINK-1269, and from the top the luminous trail of the satellite STARLINK-1577. (Christophe Lehenaff / Getty Images)It's even worse for animals, who aren't able to make choices like dimming the lights at a decent hour, using a red shift filter on their phones, or installing blackout curtains. Exposure to constant bright light causes pigeons to lose their regular locomotor and feeding patterns, and goldfish that are normally active in daytime likewise lose their own consistent patterns of activity and rest. Abnormal patterns of light and darkness reduce reproductive capacity in male sheep. Both sunlight and moonlight play roles in regulating the spawning and migration of Japanese eels. Outdoor lighting can trap migratory birds and moths. In fact, even kingdoms of life beyond Animalia depend on darkness. Plants, linked in our minds with light thanks to their ability to turn it into energy through photosynthesis, require darkness, too. Artificial light that hampers nocturnal pollinators reduces plant reproductive success and fruit production. It also puts trees' schedules out of whack, affecting the dates of when leaves bud and how and when temperature triggers leaves to change color (though it also might delay plants' schedules for flowering, budding and leap-dropping otherwise moved forwards as a result of global heating-induced changes in seasonal temperatures.) Even fungi need darkness, as they evolved to use patterns of light to interact with the world. They sense light with photoreceptors, and while they use them to avoid too much of it so as not to dry out, that's not all they're for. Fungi can have white collar proteins and cryptochromes for detection of blue light, opsins that detect green light, and phytochromes for red light. These photoreceptors also regulate things like sexual and asexual development and metabolism, accumulation of protective pigments and proteins, and growth. Artificial light seems to reduce the diversity of both fungi and beneficial ("good") bacteria living on grassland plant species, destabilize natural bacteria communities in soil, and may cause harmful algal blooms of blue-green algae in freshwater lakes.  And it isn't just darkness, but specifically the clear view of the stars that dark skies provide that is key to wellbeing for some species. Songbirds that migrate at night calibrate their magnetic compass to the setting sun, then use the stars as a compass. Bull ants use stars to find their way home. The dung beetle, which disperses seeds as it rolls its dung balls, fertilizing topsoil and enhancing biodiversity and engineering its environment, normally orients itself using the Milky Way and the moon. When light pollution or skyglow (light pollution from elsewhere reflected downwards) dims it, the beetle is forced to orient itself by sources of light on Earth. This increases competition within the species as all the dung beetles are attracted to the same artificial light source, or results in them becoming disoriented when they can't find a replacement for the stars. Either way, the result is less of that dispersal that's so important for soil health and biodiversity. Suing for dark skies "Now, of course, there is no legal precedent in U.S. courts for non-human entities having rights in and of themselves. When we talk about laws like the Endangered Species Act, it's always about the value of those species to humans, even if it is only our curiosity or our wonder," Price said, noting that momentum is building in other countries towards a less anthropocentric approach.  "We should draft and enact local [and] state laws," Price argued, "that recognize the right to dark skies as belonging intrinsically to nocturnal life, and not just nocturnal because what happens to life at night, if it's diminished or wiped out is going to have absolutely devastating effects on those creatures and on [that] plant life and so forth that is more active in daylight. It's all connected, and that's the very point of it all." A rights of nature argument would be about "conveying enough legal recognition to those natural systems that they can at least compete with the Western view of humans being at the legal and environmental apex," where the purpose of the nature is framed as being the benefit of humans, and nature is to be made subservient to us, Barentine said. He has scoured the global legal literature for examples that could serve as precedents for applying legislation to dark skies. "There has to be a change in paradigms that are at the foundation of how we run our society and the kinds of laws we create." Some countries have subjected light pollution to law and to judicial review, Barentine said. "And I found some examples of countries that have given a level of consideration to these natural systems that are at least close enough to that, to where you can make the jump and say, if you would protect a river, for example, under rights of nature by giving it [legal] standing ... that there's really no reason that you cannot apply exactly the same logic to light pollution." But the more foundational idea of a legal right to darkness — or, complimentarily, a right to starlight — has not been tested in courts. But rights of nature arguments more generally have found favor with courts in enough jurisdictions that it's definitely no longer a fringe or symbolic legal concept, despite Price's reluctance to be over-optimistic about how quickly change can be achieved. And the framing of darkness or starlight as a right is not entirely new. In 2009, the general assembly of the International Astronomical Union passed "Resolution 2009-B5", which among other related points, states that "an unpolluted night sky that allows the enjoyment and contemplation of the firmament should be considered a fundamental socio-cultural and environmental right, and that the progressive degradation of the night sky should be regarded as a fundamental loss." And since this resolution built on a 2007 conference called the "International Conference in Defence of the Quality of the Night Sky and the Right to Observe Stars held jointly by UNESCO and the IAU, the idea that it's a sociocultural right might seem to be endorsed by UNESCO, the global body dedicated to such rights. But there are limits to how far international bodies are willing to go. Noting a "growing number of requests to UNESCO concerning the recognition of the value of the dark night sky and celestial objects," by 2007, UNESCO's World Heritage Centre stated that "the sky or the dark night sky or celestial objects or starlight as such cannot be nominated to the World Heritage List within the framework of the Convention concerning the Protection of the World Cultural and Natural Heritage." Nor, they say, can Dark Sky preserves be considered under the various categories of cultural and natural properties subject to protection — because no criteria exist for them to be considered. And that's still several steps away from an enforceable right. So we're not there yet. If a person or group of people are going to go to court on behalf of nature, "it is a stronger case if the complaint is brought by a human person who lives in a place that is affected by that thing. So it would be hard for me to make an argument that I should be the plaintiff in a case involving light pollution in China or Europe or somewhere like that," said Barentine, who lives in Tucson, Arizona, a dark sky city, "but I could be the person who brings the complaint in my part of the United States, because I can argue that I am impacted by this and I have an interest in this ecosystem." Barentine and colleagues have been developing the concept of a lightshed, analogous to a watershed, a geographical region that may cut across existing legal boundaries but that could define an area within which total light pollution must be kept within a certain limit in order to mitigate harm and limit skyglow. "If we believe that there's anything like a commons and that there is a public interest in the commons, then I could bring suit on behalf of all people similarly situated. We could define a class of people. I can say that literally, every person who lives in my city is affected in one way or another by this issue, and therefore could stand to suffer a legal injury that we're asking a court to remedy," Barentine said. While restrictions on local governance in the US and the country's strong legal emphasis on property rights makes it extremely difficult to advance dark sky legislation through a rights of nature argument, Price said that, in theory at least, were a bill introduced this year in the New York legislature that would grant rights of nature to the Great Lakes ecosystem prove successful, it might then be possible to argue in court that documented harms resulting from light pollution must be rectified under that legislation. The proposed legislation would devolve powers to local municipalities and counties to protect the ability of local ecosystems to exist, to flourish naturally, and to be restored when harmed. And as we've seen, humans, animals, and other organisms might have a strong case that we've all suffered harm from too much light when it should be dark, and even too few stars when the sky should be a-glitter with them. Still, Price thinks that this bill is likely to be a public learning experience more than anything else.  "There has to be a change in paradigms that are at the foundation of how we run our society and the kinds of laws we create," he said. "It's really people's minds that have to change more than the laws before they can accept these laws."  But he quoted science fiction author Ursula K. Le Guin on the eventual inevitability of once-unimaginable change. Accepting an award from the National Book Foundation, Le Guin said that "We live in capitalism, its power seems inescapable — but then, so did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be resisted and changed by human beings." Read more about rights of nature

Dark sky proponents mull the rights of nature to battle light pollution. Here's how it would work

The technicolor Florida sunset had faded into darkness, and my extended family, assembled from two continents and three countries, gathered on the beach at Longboat Key to look at the stars. We were incredibly lucky that night in 1984, when I was seven, because a satellite came into view. With no clouds and few lights, it moved steadily like a bright little star across the dark, dark sky. We oohed. We ahhed.

Today, some laypeople may still gather to watch a gaggle of newly-launched Starlink satellites, each designed for a lifetime of about 5 years, as they move through the sky like a string of pearls, or a long ellipse of unblinking stars. But the satellites are common enough these days that they often zip through the field of view of astronomers' telescopes, and their radio signals interfere with the signals used by those telescopes. With sunlight reflecting off their solar sails, at times satellites can be brighter than the stars that, from our viewpoint, surround them, and there are enough of them to brighten the night sky.

There is little regulation of such space sources of light pollution. And work to better regulate and limit terrestrial, or ground-based, light pollution, while showing some promising results, is still in its infancy. Could an increasingly popular, intermittently successful legal argument involving what's called the Rights of Nature or more-than-human rights possibly reclaim our planet's dark skies? It sounds like a goth dream, but do we have a legal right to darkness?

Is light pollution really that bad?

It's a small step from annoyance to menace. While satellites offer many benefits, including environmental data gathering, with hundreds of thousands satellites expected to swarm the skies within the decade, we are looking at a genuine threat to the nighttime darkness within which we, and all living things, evolved over hundreds of thousands, in fact millions, of years.

Not that satellites are the only concern. Light pollution from terrestrial sources has been a gradually growing menace to dark skies since the Industrial Revolution, as electrical lighting, explosive population growth, and dramatic increases in industry over the years have steadily brightened the sky while dimming the stars, especially near large urban centers. Since the advent of LEDs, though, the problem has become dramatically worse. The low cost, perceived environmental benefit, and abundant availability of LEDs has led to lights being used in entirely unnecessary ways.

"Ground-based light pollution has been growing with urbanization, but there's an inflection point just a couple of years ago due to the arrival of LED lights, which have made it much easier to make much more light with less energy," astronomer James Lowenthal, also a dark skies advocate and professor of astronomy in Northampton, Massachusetts, told Salon in a video interview. "And not only are they bright, they're very blue ... It looks white to your eyes, it looks sparkling while, like an emergency room, operating room kind of light".

"We see the stars less and less than we did just ten, twenty years ago."

White light with that cool, bright white appearance, like intense moonlight, actually contains a higher proportion of short-wavelengths, the blue and green part of the visible spectrum. This cool blueish light is said to have a high temperature (the higher the temperature of light, the bluer it looks to us). In fact, the original LEDs that hit the market around 15 years ago had such a high temperature that when cities and towns installed them in street lights, people were horrified, Lowenthal said, describing "many cases of cities where citizens just revolted against what their city had done." 

As most late-night computer users know by now, probably thanks to someone nagging at them, informatively but in vain, to get off the damn screen, blue light has effects on animal and human eyes, especially on older humans.

"Just as blue sunlight scatters in the Earth's atmosphere and makes the sun look slightly less blue, light from a strong blue, rich white street light enters your eyeball, scatters around in your eyeball and causes a sort of gauzy veil of glare," Lowenthal explained. 

There's more, though. The short wavelength blue light of LEDs bounces around more in the sky, intensifying the brightness of light pollution more than an equivalent amount of less blue light energy. To add insult to injury, our eyes' sensitivity shifts towards the blue end of the spectrum at night. That's why moonlight looks bluish, when it's actually the same color as sunlight.

"And that's actually one of the main reasons that we see the stars less and less than we did just ten, twenty years ago," Lowenthal said.

A few steps short of regulation

As a result of these twin Earth-based and sky-based threats to the skies under which we all evolved, dark sky advocacy became a thing. So have dark-sky preserves, where light pollution is restricted; dark sky certification, which echoes programs such as the UNESCO World Heritage Sites; and dark skies as a marketing attraction. 

The Dark and Quiet Skies report, a 2021 report commissioned by the United Nations Committee on the Peaceful Uses of Outer Space, notes from the first paragraphs the wide scope of dark sky advocacy — from the importance of that astronomical research for protecting the Earth from asteroids or for advancing scientific research that benefits all humanity, to the cultural significance of dark skies. Many Indigenous peoples use the stars for orientation as their ancestors did, and the panorama of stars serves as a "library" of Indigenous knowledge.


Want more health and science stories in your inbox? Subscribe to Salon's weekly newsletter Lab Notes.


"We are adapted to darkness. But I would say not just in a physiological way," Aparna Venkatesan, an astronomer at University of San Francisco, told Salon in a video interview, citing numerous studies on human creativity at night, the rich history of references to darkness in human languages and storytelling, and the prevalence of human origin stories — including the scientific account of the Big Bang — that begin with total darkness.

Venkatesan, with astronomer and dark sky consultant John Barentine, coined the term "noctalgia," meaning "sky grief," to describe "the accelerating loss of the home environment of our shared skies." It's a loss that affects all of us but has intense implications for Indigenous people, for whom access to dark night skies is a vital factor in preserving traditions around navigation and calendaring. It even impacts food sovereignty, as pollinators are impacted by light pollution.

"There's individual rights and community rights, including the rights of future generations and freedom of religion," Venkatesan said. "All of that is true, but I also want to advocate that we are part of the continuum, that darkness lives in our language, our storytelling, our identity, our science, our creativity. Really, much of our human identity rests with darkness."

In response to concerns about terrestrial light pollution, dark sky preserves or parks have been springing up around the world (there are more than 120 in the U.S.), offering a distinct attraction for tourism as well as residents — and the ecosystems that are able to enjoy a kind of life that has become largely endangered, life where circadian rhythms follow the same schedule as our ancestors' did.

Light pollution country versus cityComparison showing the effects of light pollution on viewing the sky at night (Jeremy Stanley/Flickr/Wiki Commons)International Dark Sky Places is an international program of independent third-party certification of particular areas that apply to become IDSPs. Starting with Flagstaff, Arizona's appointment as the first Dark Sky City in 2001, the organization has certified dark sites, which can be communities, parks or protected areas, on six continents, 22 countries. There are now some 200 of them around the globe, representing 160,000 square kilometers of land on Earth from which you can see clear night skies, glittering heavens, the full starry span of the Milky Way rarely visible from cities or even the average over-illuminated suburb. Some of these are in the remote, austere sites that often serve as ideal sites for astronomical observatories. But not all of them. 

There are practices of light pollution mitigation that can be learned and adopted if everyone in a given community is on board — or brought on board through policy decisions. But getting agreement and motivation to pursue dark sky certification status by working to achieve light pollution reduction targets is easier said than done.

"There are no binding treaties that have to do with the night sky, with that type of environmental protection," Barentine told Salon in a video interview along with Venkatesan. That's even though certain U.N. instruments do mention it—the U.N. Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples and the underlying treaties establishing the United Nations Environment Programme are among these, he said. "At best, what we might get is a series of recommendations to members states of these different conventions that they could choose to enact if they wanted to." 

"Much of our human identity rests with darkness."

But voluntary standards for light pollution, like voluntary standards for much else where profit and community or ecosystem well-being might be at odds, have a habit of failing to meet the need, of being inconsistently applied, and of simply being ignored. In fact, Ben Price, director of education at the Community Environmental Legal Defence Fund, which assisted in establishment of the world's first community rights of nature legislation, notes that the establishment of minimum protected areas tends to be supported or even promoted by the corporations that cause greatest environmental harm, effectively maximizing the amount of harm that can be done everywhere else. 

The federal Clean Air and Clean Water acts, and similar state laws, likewise set out in law just how much degradation or destruction of the natural world corporations or others can get away with. Partly as a result, environmental damage is far, far worse and natural habitats are far smaller and more fragmented than they were half a century ago, before these pieces of legislation existed.

Price told Salon in a video interview that he enjoyed amateur astronomy as a child and plans to travel to a noted dark sky preserve in the Pennsylvania wilds. "But really, do you have to travel hours and hours to see the stars the way they actually come through?" he asked rhetorically. "Do we really need to have every damn thing on the surface of the Earth lit up?" Or in the sky — Price has also watched satellites and has memories of seeing Sputnik overhead.

Legislation, Price believes, is the answer to bringing back the dark — as opposed to carving the Earth up into little pieces, a few fragments of which might achieve protected status. But with over two decades of work to advance rights of nature at the community level in the United States — nearly 200 communities have adopted CELDF-drafted community bill of rights laws including rights of nature — he believes that the entrenched domination of property rights in the U.S. means that it's going to be an uphill battle.  

The damage done by bright skies

In the law, reparations are often thought of in terms of damages. Well, there's plenty of damage to be redressed. Remember how our eyes naturally become more sensitive to the blue end of the visible spectrum at night? That's just one of the many known and other likely unrecognized ways in which even daylight-waking creatures like us have been conditioned by millions of years of evolving in a world with roughly equal hours of daylight and darkness. 

Nocturnal animals obviously depend on having adequate darkness for the kind of eyesight they've evolved and the nighttime behavior they've evolved to carry out in the dark of night. But diurnal animals like humans, and crepuscular animals, like cats, that are naturally at their most active at dawn and at dusk, also have exquisitely calibrated chronobiology, with hormone patterns that change according to the light and processes that take place during either daytime, when the sun is out, or nighttime, when it's not. 

Research demonstrating the negative health impacts of messing too much with our bodies' ingrained expectations about light and darkness has accumulated over decades. Light pollution is linked to a host of health harms. Exposure to artificial light when we should be asleep alters our production of the important hormone melatonin, increasing risks of obesity, reproductive problems, certain cancers such as breast and prostate cancer, and mood disorders, and negatively affects immune function.

Seine et Marne on march the 6th 2021 at night. Taurus constellation. On this image we can see the effect of the movements of artificial satellites through the sky. On the left we can see the planet Mars, on the right the famous stars cluster the Pleiades (M45). From the bottom right the luminous trail of the satellite STARLINK-1269, and from the top the luminous trail of the satellite STARLINK-1577. (Christophe Lehenaff / Getty Images)It's even worse for animals, who aren't able to make choices like dimming the lights at a decent hour, using a red shift filter on their phones, or installing blackout curtains. Exposure to constant bright light causes pigeons to lose their regular locomotor and feeding patterns, and goldfish that are normally active in daytime likewise lose their own consistent patterns of activity and rest. Abnormal patterns of light and darkness reduce reproductive capacity in male sheep. Both sunlight and moonlight play roles in regulating the spawning and migration of Japanese eels. Outdoor lighting can trap migratory birds and moths.

In fact, even kingdoms of life beyond Animalia depend on darkness. Plants, linked in our minds with light thanks to their ability to turn it into energy through photosynthesis, require darkness, too. Artificial light that hampers nocturnal pollinators reduces plant reproductive success and fruit production. It also puts trees' schedules out of whack, affecting the dates of when leaves bud and how and when temperature triggers leaves to change color (though it also might delay plants' schedules for flowering, budding and leap-dropping otherwise moved forwards as a result of global heating-induced changes in seasonal temperatures.)

Even fungi need darkness, as they evolved to use patterns of light to interact with the world. They sense light with photoreceptors, and while they use them to avoid too much of it so as not to dry out, that's not all they're for. Fungi can have white collar proteins and cryptochromes for detection of blue light, opsins that detect green light, and phytochromes for red light. These photoreceptors also regulate things like sexual and asexual development and metabolism, accumulation of protective pigments and proteins, and growth. Artificial light seems to reduce the diversity of both fungi and beneficial ("good") bacteria living on grassland plant species, destabilize natural bacteria communities in soil, and may cause harmful algal blooms of blue-green algae in freshwater lakes. 

And it isn't just darkness, but specifically the clear view of the stars that dark skies provide that is key to wellbeing for some species. Songbirds that migrate at night calibrate their magnetic compass to the setting sun, then use the stars as a compass. Bull ants use stars to find their way home. The dung beetle, which disperses seeds as it rolls its dung balls, fertilizing topsoil and enhancing biodiversity and engineering its environment, normally orients itself using the Milky Way and the moon. When light pollution or skyglow (light pollution from elsewhere reflected downwards) dims it, the beetle is forced to orient itself by sources of light on Earth. This increases competition within the species as all the dung beetles are attracted to the same artificial light source, or results in them becoming disoriented when they can't find a replacement for the stars. Either way, the result is less of that dispersal that's so important for soil health and biodiversity.

Suing for dark skies

"Now, of course, there is no legal precedent in U.S. courts for non-human entities having rights in and of themselves. When we talk about laws like the Endangered Species Act, it's always about the value of those species to humans, even if it is only our curiosity or our wonder," Price said, noting that momentum is building in other countries towards a less anthropocentric approach. 

"We should draft and enact local [and] state laws," Price argued, "that recognize the right to dark skies as belonging intrinsically to nocturnal life, and not just nocturnal because what happens to life at night, if it's diminished or wiped out is going to have absolutely devastating effects on those creatures and on [that] plant life and so forth that is more active in daylight. It's all connected, and that's the very point of it all."

A rights of nature argument would be about "conveying enough legal recognition to those natural systems that they can at least compete with the Western view of humans being at the legal and environmental apex," where the purpose of the nature is framed as being the benefit of humans, and nature is to be made subservient to us, Barentine said. He has scoured the global legal literature for examples that could serve as precedents for applying legislation to dark skies.

"There has to be a change in paradigms that are at the foundation of how we run our society and the kinds of laws we create."

Some countries have subjected light pollution to law and to judicial review, Barentine said. "And I found some examples of countries that have given a level of consideration to these natural systems that are at least close enough to that, to where you can make the jump and say, if you would protect a river, for example, under rights of nature by giving it [legal] standing ... that there's really no reason that you cannot apply exactly the same logic to light pollution."

But the more foundational idea of a legal right to darkness — or, complimentarily, a right to starlight — has not been tested in courts. But rights of nature arguments more generally have found favor with courts in enough jurisdictions that it's definitely no longer a fringe or symbolic legal concept, despite Price's reluctance to be over-optimistic about how quickly change can be achieved.

And the framing of darkness or starlight as a right is not entirely new. In 2009, the general assembly of the International Astronomical Union passed "Resolution 2009-B5", which among other related points, states that "an unpolluted night sky that allows the enjoyment and contemplation of the firmament should be considered a fundamental socio-cultural and environmental right, and that the progressive degradation of the night sky should be regarded as a fundamental loss." And since this resolution built on a 2007 conference called the "International Conference in Defence of the Quality of the Night Sky and the Right to Observe Stars held jointly by UNESCO and the IAU, the idea that it's a sociocultural right might seem to be endorsed by UNESCO, the global body dedicated to such rights.

But there are limits to how far international bodies are willing to go. Noting a "growing number of requests to UNESCO concerning the recognition of the value of the dark night sky and celestial objects," by 2007, UNESCO's World Heritage Centre stated that "the sky or the dark night sky or celestial objects or starlight as such cannot be nominated to the World Heritage List within the framework of the Convention concerning the Protection of the World Cultural and Natural Heritage." Nor, they say, can Dark Sky preserves be considered under the various categories of cultural and natural properties subject to protection — because no criteria exist for them to be considered. And that's still several steps away from an enforceable right. So we're not there yet.

If a person or group of people are going to go to court on behalf of nature, "it is a stronger case if the complaint is brought by a human person who lives in a place that is affected by that thing. So it would be hard for me to make an argument that I should be the plaintiff in a case involving light pollution in China or Europe or somewhere like that," said Barentine, who lives in Tucson, Arizona, a dark sky city, "but I could be the person who brings the complaint in my part of the United States, because I can argue that I am impacted by this and I have an interest in this ecosystem."

Barentine and colleagues have been developing the concept of a lightshed, analogous to a watershed, a geographical region that may cut across existing legal boundaries but that could define an area within which total light pollution must be kept within a certain limit in order to mitigate harm and limit skyglow.

"If we believe that there's anything like a commons and that there is a public interest in the commons, then I could bring suit on behalf of all people similarly situated. We could define a class of people. I can say that literally, every person who lives in my city is affected in one way or another by this issue, and therefore could stand to suffer a legal injury that we're asking a court to remedy," Barentine said.

While restrictions on local governance in the US and the country's strong legal emphasis on property rights makes it extremely difficult to advance dark sky legislation through a rights of nature argument, Price said that, in theory at least, were a bill introduced this year in the New York legislature that would grant rights of nature to the Great Lakes ecosystem prove successful, it might then be possible to argue in court that documented harms resulting from light pollution must be rectified under that legislation. The proposed legislation would devolve powers to local municipalities and counties to protect the ability of local ecosystems to exist, to flourish naturally, and to be restored when harmed. And as we've seen, humans, animals, and other organisms might have a strong case that we've all suffered harm from too much light when it should be dark, and even too few stars when the sky should be a-glitter with them.

Still, Price thinks that this bill is likely to be a public learning experience more than anything else. 

"There has to be a change in paradigms that are at the foundation of how we run our society and the kinds of laws we create," he said. "It's really people's minds that have to change more than the laws before they can accept these laws." 

But he quoted science fiction author Ursula K. Le Guin on the eventual inevitability of once-unimaginable change. Accepting an award from the National Book Foundation, Le Guin said that "We live in capitalism, its power seems inescapable — but then, so did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be resisted and changed by human beings."

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Why Is That Woodpecker White?

For years, the author has gathered photographs of local leucistic birds: white (or whitish) woodpeckers, hummingbirds, sparrows, turkeys, bald eagles, and more.  The post Why Is That Woodpecker White? appeared first on Bay Nature.

For several years in my garden, one of the harbingers of spring would be the arrival of the white-headed girl. This bird was a female house sparrow, normal except for her bright white cap. She stood out: field guides describe these birds’ caps as “drab,” meaning grayish-brown. Not white. So the first time I saw her, I wasn’t quite sure what was going on.  That became clear about a month later on a trip to the Sierras. As the sun was setting, the trip leader spotted two red-tailed hawks perched on top of a distant barn. At first glance, they didn’t look like a pair—one’s head seemed encircled by a saintly halo. A look through a spotting scope and a word from the trip leader clarified that the bird was leucistic. Now that I knew what I was seeing, I started noticing leucistic birds elsewhere, and I began collecting photographs of them from local Bay Area bird photographers. Photographer Alan Krakauer captured this partially leucistic white-crowned sparrow at his home in Richmond. Like my white-headed girl, he says that this bird returned annually for several years: “This bird was the VIB [very important bird] of our backyard and we always particularly loved finding it in with the other white-crowned and golden-crowned sparrows.”Photographer Marty Lycan took this photo in January 2023 at Shadow Cliffs Regional Park in Pleasanton. This particular bald eagle had been reported at several other hot spots continuing in 2024, and then into the new year.Mark Rauzon describes these photographs: “Bishop Ranch, San Ramon is a steep hill of super sticky mud, pockmarked by cattle hooves, that make for a challenge as you listen for the ‘haha’ laughing acorn woodpecker, hoping to see a white blur fly by. With patience, especially sitting quietly by the acorn granary, soon a normal and a white bird with a vermilion cap will drop by. Pretty much every bird photographer has made the pilgrimage to see them and take their best shot.” These birds were first reported in the summer of 2023. As of October 1, 2026, Mark thinks there might be as many as five. I love this particular photograph for showing both a typical acorn woodpecker and a leucistic one.Leucism is a rare condition in which a bird’s plumage has white feathers that aren’t normally white. Data from the Cornell Lab of Ornithology’s Feederwatch Program estimates that one in 30,000 birds has leucistic or albinistic plumage. Among those, most are leucistic, as opposed to albino. The difference is often—but not always—clear-cut: albino birds have no melanin, the pigment responsible for color, turning their plumage pure white, their eyes pink or red, and their legs and bills pale. Leucistic birds, instead, have normal eyes, bills, and legs for their species. And their whiteness comes in varying degrees.  Some leucistic birds—like my white-headed girl—have white patches where they shouldn’t have them. Others will have plumage that looks faded—half way between its normal color and white. And in the most extreme cases, the bird’s feathers are completely white.  This Anna’s hummingbird appeared in photographer Alan Bade’s garden for a few weeks in the springtime, but avoided his hummingbird feeders, perhaps avoiding competition with other birds, Alan speculates. He added that it seemed “a little timid and more delicate than our normal hummers. It goes away for a few days and then shows up again, like a ghost.” When Alan sent a picture of the bird—which he thought was leucistic—to expert Sherri Williamson, she replied that its “‘washed-out’ appearance” is “suggestive of one of the less extreme forms of albinism.” Her prognosis for the bird, however, was hopeful: “Though severe pigment abnormalities can make a bird more vulnerable to excessive plumage wear, sunburn, disease, and predation, there are some cases of ‘pigment-challenged’ Anna’s hummingbirds living to adulthood and breeding successfully. Here’s hoping that this will be one of those success stories.”Photographer Keith Malley is part of a regular crew at the Presidio’s Battery Godfrey who watch for seabirds and birds on migration. They observed this turkey vulture recently as it rose up behind their position at the ocean’s edge, then coursed along the bluff for about an hour before crossing north into Marin.Photographer Marty Lycan captured this almost completely leucistic white-crowned sparrow in winter several years ago while walking his dogs near a baseball field adjacent to Sycamore Valley Park. Was the location coincidental? The bird is about the size and color of a baseball showing a few scuff marks. It had been reported there the previous year, too, and then reappeared the following two winters. Sparrows seem to do this.Photographer Mark Rauzon found these finches in Panoche Valley, San Benito Co. where large flocks of house finches and various kinds of sparrows congregate in winter. Mark notes, “Obviously one stood out as it perched on the farming equipment.” Most often, a genetic defect causes leucism, by preventing pigment from moving into the feathers during development. Genetic leucism can result in birds that have patches of white (sometimes called piebald) or that are completely white. But various environmental factors can also contribute to leucism. Poor diet can lead to a loss of pigments, producing gray, pale, or white feathers. So can exposure to pollutants or radiation. Birds that lose feathers through injury sometimes replace the lost ones with new ones that lack pigment, regaining normal color only after the next molt’s feathers come in. And, like humans, birds can experience “progressive graying,”  in which cells lose pigment as they age. Mark Rauzon seems to attract leucistic birds. He described this yellow-rumped warbler, at the Las Gallinas Sanitation Ponds in San Rafael, as “a butterbutt with mayo” or, alternately, “an Audubon warbler piebald with splotches of white and yellow, gray and gray.” (Audubon is a subspecies of yellow-rumped warbler). Photographer Becky Matsubara took this picture of this bird at Marta’s Marsh in Corte Madera a couple of summers ago; it was among 12 other northern mockingbirds. It had first been reported in April and stayed around until at least August. It reminds me of the mockingbird fledglings that descend on my backyard each summer, eating all of my blueberries. While leucistic birds can be a source of wonder for us humans, the abnormal coloration can cause problems for the birds themselves. A bird’s appearance is often critical in its ability to find a mate, and a bird that looks like a snowball instead of a rainbow might have problems getting a date. A bird’s color can camouflage it from predators, but, again, all of that white can be like a painted target. Melanin not only provides color in feathers but it also provides structural integrity, making feathers more durable. And finally, a lack of melanin can affect a bird’s ability to thermoregulate—lighter feathers may absorb less light and heat, so birds might struggle to stay warm in cold temperatures. I heard about this turkey from some friends who had said it had been hanging out with three “normal” turkeys (is there such a thing?) in the grassy center divider of Sacramento Avenue in Berkeley for a few days. When I went to find it, the three turkeys were about four blocks away from the leucistic bird. The leucistic turkey disappeared a few days after I photographed it. The others, six months later, are still hanging around (I had to chase them out of my driveway last month!) (Eric Schroeder)At the Merced National Wildlife Refuge, photographer Rick Lewis remembers: “It was early morning, the sun was rising, no other vehicles in sight; I was driving solo and immediately recognized the silhouette as a black phoebe. Very exciting as I focused my binoculars and realized that it was leucistic.”Although there have been no large studies that show leucism is on the rise, human activity leads me to believe there are more odd-colored birds around.Some of that increase is intentional: Hummingbird expert Sherri Williamson points out that humans sometimes selectively breed for rare qualities like albinism, meaning we’ve created “hundreds of fancy varieties of poultry, pigeons, and cage birds.” But other increases in leucistic birds are accidental: One study done in the wake of the Chernobyl disaster revealed that there was a tenfold increase in the number of leucistic barn swallows locally. With habitat loss (and degraded avian diets resulting from this), human influences, and other environmental factors, the numbers of leucistic birds are bound to increase. That might not always be a good thing, as we’ve seen.  A bird hotline—in the pre-listserv and eBird days—alerted photographer Bob Lewis to this American robin about a decade ago, on a garage roof in a Berkeley neighborhood.  It hung around the neighborhood for several days before disappearing. When I asked him what he thought happened to it, he said he suspected “something ate it.”Photographer Torgil Zethson found this western sandpiper on the Newark Slough Trail at the Don Edwards National Wildlife Refuge in the South Bay. Because this almost pure-white bird was so striking, he suspected that it might be the same one photographed a week earlier in Monterey County or even a bird seen in Coos Bay, Oregon ten days before that. (Torgil Zethson)But of course, the other explanation is that perhaps what’s increasing isn’t leucistic bird numbers, but rather the number of people watching and photographing birds. And I’m encouraged—as are the other Bay Area birders who’ve watched them—by those individual birds that keep showing up year after year, like my white-headed girl once did. After four years of backyard visits, she disappeared. Still, eight years later, when spring rolls around, I keep an eye open for her—or perhaps her offspring. Leucistic acorn woodpeckers. (Mark Rauzon)

With Dams Removed, Spawning Salmon Are Heading Up Alameda Creek

These chinooks are likely hatchery strays. But they are still an ecosystem boon—and flaming-bright symbols of restoration at work. The post With Dams Removed, Spawning Salmon Are Heading Up Alameda Creek appeared first on Bay Nature.

Nearly a dozen chinook salmon have swum the 12 miles upstream from the San Francisco Bay through Alameda Creek into Niles Canyon—likely the first salmon to spawn there in 30 years, according to Jeff Miller, founder of the Alameda Creek Alliance.  From its mouth in the East Bay, between the San Mateo and Dumbarton bridges, Alameda Creek leads forty miles east into the Sunol Wilderness through abundant potential spawning grounds. But dams, pipelines, bridges, and other human structures in the creek blocked fish from that potential paradise in 1967. Since 1998, the Alameda Creek Alliance, a grassroots advocacy group, has worked alongside agencies, nonprofits, and community members to take down these barriers one by one. Two multimillion-dollar fish ladders opened the route to Niles Canyon in 2022. This September, the mainstem creek’s last remaining barrier, a concrete mat over a PG&E gas pipeline, was removed. Bay Nature featured the watershed moment—and the decades of advocacy that led up to it—in a May 2025 story, “After 28 Years, Alameda Creek Opens Up to Fish.”  Claire Buchanan, CalTrout’s central California regional director, says that on Wednesday environmental consultants spotted two chinooks that went even farther—they were crossing the former pipeline, some 20 miles upstream from the mouth.  These chinooks are likely hatchery strays, says Miller. But they are still an ecosystem boon, bringing nutrients into the stream. They also serve as flaming-bright symbols of restoration-at-work to the public—proof that salmon can find their way to new spawning grounds. Chinook salmon males redden as they prepare to spawn and develop a characteristic hooked jaw. Volunteers spotted both males and (hopefully egg-laden) females crossing the former barriers on the lower creek last week. Volunteers with the Alameda Creek Alliance as well as agency staff are watching the creek for salmon and trout—and now looking for where they might have spawned. (Left, David Young; right, Dan Sarka) As the fish now swim up through Niles Canyon, the females will search for quiet spots to lay their eggs, which males will then fertilize. This part, Miller doesn’t worry about helping along. “They’re pretty good at what they do,” he says. 

Nature recovery plan in England hit by clause allowing contracts to end with a year’s notice

Conservationists say changes, coupled with underfunding, will curb take-up and leave less land protected for natureUK politics live – latest updatesAn ambitious scheme to restore England’s nature over coming decades has been undermined after the government inserted a clause allowing it to terminate contracts with only a year’s notice, conservationists have said.The project was designed to fund landscape-scale restoration over thousands of hectares, whether on large estates or across farms and nature reserves. The idea was to create huge reserves for rare species to thrive – projects promoted as decades-long commitments to securing habitat for wildlife well into the future. Continue reading...

An ambitious scheme to restore England’s nature over coming decades has been undermined after the government inserted a clause allowing it to terminate contracts with only a year’s notice, conservationists have said.The project was designed to fund landscape-scale restoration over thousands of hectares, whether on large estates or across farms and nature reserves. The idea was to create huge reserves for rare species to thrive – projects promoted as decades-long commitments to securing habitat for wildlife well into the future.Conservationists have warned these changes, as well as underfunding, will lead to low take-up and less land protected for nature. They say allowing contracts to be ripped up after a year is unworkable, as it would leave landowners with rewilded land they can no longer farm and too little time to reconvert it.Landscape recovery is the most ambitious part of the environmental land management schemes (Elms), which were introduced by the previous Conservative government to replace EU farming subsidies.Initially, the schemes were to be split into three strands, with landscape recovery receiving a third of the £2.4bn a year funding pot. But this week, the environment secretary, Emma Reynolds, announced the projects would be given only £500m over 20 years.Jake Fiennes, the director of conservation at the Holkham estate, one of the government’s first pilot schemes for landscape recovery in 2022. He has been creating more than 2,000 hectares (4,940 acres) of wildlife-rich habitat along the north Norfolk coast, including restoring wetland that has already attracted thriving bird life such as the return of rare spoonbills.Fiennes said: “£500m over 20 years is sod all. It was supposed to be a third of the [farming] budget – we could have worked with that. If you’re the person in the street, £500m sounds like the most enormous amount of money. But if you understand the environment and food budget is £2.4bn annually, this is a fifth of that over 20 years. A tiny fraction of it for the most ambitious nature schemes.”Spread across the landscape recovery schemes, it will amount to only a few million pounds a year. But what is being asked of the landowners is incredibly expensive and ambitious, Fiennes says.“Some of the pilots are asking so much more than that as they understand the value of land, and if you put it into permanent land use change, you permanently remove its value. Then it’s implementing your scheme, like re-meandering a river and completely redesigning a landscape. That costs money,” he added.The Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs (Defra) has claimed the funding shortfall could be topped up with private investment. However, farmers say this is unlikely while schemes remain vulnerable to being scrapped with only a year’s notice.The president of the National Farmers’ Union, Tom Bradshaw, said: “Defra’s plans for landscape recovery projects under the [environmental improvement plan] involve combining government funding with private investment.“However, experience shows that attracting private investment has been challenging, raising concerns about how farmers can confidently engage their businesses in the projects.”Toby Perkins, the chair of the environmental audit committee, said: “Do the government’s commitments match its ambition? The £500m for landscape recovery is much needed but, at £25m a year, I am very sceptical that it offers anything like adequate funding.”The government’s environmental improvement plan, announced this week, has watered down the overall ambition for nature on farmland.skip past newsletter promotionThe planet's most important stories. Get all the week's environment news - the good, the bad and the essentialPrivacy Notice: Newsletters may contain information about charities, online ads, and content funded by outside parties. If you do not have an account, we will create a guest account for you on theguardian.com to send you this newsletter. You can complete full registration at any time. For more information about how we use your data see our Privacy Policy. We use Google reCaptcha to protect our website and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.after newsletter promotionAlice Groom, the head of sustainable land policy at the RSPB, said: “In just two years, we’ve gone from needing 65–80% of farmers to manage 10% of their land for nature, to a new target of just 41% of farmers managing only 7%. That is a huge step backwards.“The science is unequivocal: on-farm habitat must be high-quality, the right mix and in the right places to support thriving wildlife populations. Government is simply wrong to suggest that getting 41% of farms to manage 7% of land under almost any [sustainable farming incentive (SFI)] option will be enough. It won’t. And it risks locking in further decline. “The falling numbers of species like corn buntings and turtle doves tell us something deeper that pollinators, beneficial insects, soils and climate-resilient landscapes are under stress.”Farmers and other landowners who signed up to the scheme found that their contracts allowed the government to terminate them for convenience – with no fault attached – with just 12 months’ notice.Fiennes said that he would not sign up to the new schemes yet and hoped to renegotiate with the government.He added: “Some of the legal advice says don’t sign because the government can end the scheme in 12 months. If you’ve done potentially irreversible land use change, you are up a creek without a paddle. Pension funds, banks – if they know there is a commitment from government for a set period, they will top this up, but at the moment it can be struck off in a year.”The nature-friendly farming schemes have been beset by difficulties and delays. Under the Labour government, funding was cut by £100m and the SFI was abruptly frozen, locking farmers out. Ministers say they plan to reopen the SFI in the new year.A Defra spokesperson said: “The £500m for landscape recovery projects is a downpayment which will go a long way to protecting and restoring nature across England.”

Why Is That Woodpecker White?

For years, the author has gathered photographs of local leucistic birds: white (or whitish) woodpeckers, hummingbirds, sparrows, turkeys, bald eagles, and more.  The post Why Is That Woodpecker White? appeared first on Bay Nature.

For several years in my garden, one of the harbingers of spring would be the arrival of the white-headed girl. This bird was a female house sparrow, normal except for her bright white cap. She stood out: field guides describe these birds’ caps as “drab,” meaning grayish-brown. Not white. So the first time I saw her, I wasn’t quite sure what was going on.  That became clear about a month later on a trip to the Sierras. As the sun was setting, the trip leader spotted two red-tailed hawks perched on top of a distant barn. At first glance, they didn’t look like a pair—one’s head seemed encircled by a saintly halo. A look through a spotting scope and a word from the trip leader clarified that the bird was leucistic. Now that I knew what I was seeing, I started noticing leucistic birds elsewhere, and I began collecting photographs of them from local Bay Area bird photographers. Photographer Alan Krakauer captured this partially leucistic white-crowned sparrow at his home in Richmond. Like my white-headed girl, he says that this bird returned annually for several years: “This bird was the VIB [very important bird] of our backyard and we always particularly loved finding it in with the other white-crowned and golden-crowned sparrows.”Photographer Marty Lycan took this photo in January 2023 at Shadow Cliffs Regional Park in Pleasanton. This particular bald eagle had been reported at several other hot spots continuing in 2024, and then into the new year.Mark Rauzon describes these photographs: “Bishop Ranch, San Ramon is a steep hill of super sticky mud, pockmarked by cattle hooves, that make for a challenge as you listen for the ‘haha’ laughing acorn woodpecker, hoping to see a white blur fly by. With patience, especially sitting quietly by the acorn granary, soon a normal and a white bird with a vermilion cap will drop by. Pretty much every bird photographer has made the pilgrimage to see them and take their best shot.” These birds were first reported in the summer of 2023. As of October 1, 2026, Mark thinks there might be as many as five. I love this particular photograph for showing both a typical acorn woodpecker and a leucistic one.Leucism is a rare condition in which a bird’s plumage has white feathers that aren’t normally white. Data from the Cornell Lab of Ornithology’s Feederwatch Program estimates that one in 30,000 birds has leucistic or albinistic plumage. Among those, most are leucistic, as opposed to albino. The difference is often—but not always—clear-cut: albino birds have no melanin, the pigment responsible for color, turning their plumage pure white, their eyes pink or red, and their legs and bills pale. Leucistic birds, instead, have normal eyes, bills, and legs for their species. And their whiteness comes in varying degrees.  Some leucistic birds—like my white-headed girl—have white patches where they shouldn’t have them. Others will have plumage that looks faded—half way between its normal color and white. And in the most extreme cases, the bird’s feathers are completely white.  This bird appeared in photographer Alan Bade’s garden for a few weeks in the springtime, but avoided his hummingbird feeders, perhaps avoiding competition with other birds, Alan speculates. He added that it seemed “a little timid and more delicate than our normal hummers. It goes away for a few days and then shows up again, like a ghost.” When Alan sent a picture of the bird—which he thought was leucistic—to expert Sherri Williamson, she replied that its “‘washed-out’ appearance” is “suggestive of one of the less extreme forms of albinism.” Her prognosis for the bird, however, was hopeful: “Though severe pigment abnormalities can make a bird more vulnerable to excessive plumage wear, sunburn, disease, and predation, there are some cases of ‘pigment-challenged’ Anna’s hummingbirds living to adulthood and breeding successfully. Here’s hoping that this will be one of those success stories.” Photographer Keith Malley is part of a regular crew at the Presidio’s Battery Godfrey who watch for seabirds and birds on migration. They observed this bird recently as it rose up behind their position at the ocean’s edge, then coursed along the bluff for about an hour before crossing north into Marin.Photographer Marty Lycan captured this almost completely leucistic white-crowned sparrow in winter several years ago while walking his dogs near a baseball field adjacent to Sycamore Valley Park. Was the location coincidental? The bird is about the size and color of a baseball showing a few scuff marks. It had been reported there the previous year, too, and then reappeared the following two winters. Sparrows seem to do this.Photographer Mark Rauzon found these finches in Panoche Valley, San Benito Co. where large flocks of house finches and various kinds of sparrows congregate in winter. Mark notes, “Obviously one stood out as it perched on the farming equipment.” Most often, a genetic defect causes leucism, by preventing pigment from moving into the feathers during development. Genetic leucism can result in birds that have patches of white (sometimes called piebald) or that are completely white. But various environmental factors can also contribute to leucism. Poor diet can lead to a loss of pigments, producing gray, pale, or white feathers. So can exposure to pollutants or radiation. Birds that lose feathers through injury sometimes replace the lost ones with new ones that lack pigment, regaining normal color only after the next molt’s feathers come in. And, like humans, birds can experience “progressive graying,”  in which cells lose pigment as they age. Mark Rauzon seems to attract leucistic birds. He described this yellow-rumped warbler, at the Las Gallinas Sanitation Ponds in San Rafael, as “a butterbutt with mayo” or, alternately, “an Audubon warbler piebald with splotches of white and yellow, gray and gray.” (Audubon is a subspecies of yellow-rumped warbler). Photographer Becky Matsubara took this picture of this bird at Marta’s Marsh in Corte Madera a couple of summers ago; it was among 12 other northern mockingbirds. It had first been reported in April and stayed around until at least August. It reminds me of the mockingbird fledglings that descend on my backyard each summer, eating all of my blueberries. While leucistic birds can be a source of wonder for us humans, the abnormal coloration can cause problems for the birds themselves. A bird’s appearance is often critical in its ability to find a mate, and a bird that looks like a snowball instead of a rainbow might have problems getting a date. A bird’s color can camouflage it from predators, but, again, all of that white can be like a painted target. Melanin not only provides color in feathers but it also provides structural integrity, making feathers more durable. And finally, a lack of melanin can affect a bird’s ability to thermoregulate—lighter feathers may absorb less light and heat, so birds might struggle to stay warm in cold temperatures. I heard about this bird from some friends who had said it had been hanging out with three “normal” turkeys (is there such a thing?) in the grassy center divider of Sacramento Avenue in Berkeley for a few days. When I went to find it, the three turkeys were about four blocks away from the leucistic bird. The leucistic turkey disappeared a few days after I photographed it. The others, six months later, are still hanging around (I had to chase them out of my driveway last month!) (Eric Schroeder)At the Merced National Wildlife Refuge, photographer Rick Lewis remembers: “It was early morning, the sun was rising, no other vehicles in sight; I was driving solo and immediately recognized the silhouette as a phoebe. Very exciting as I focused my binoculars and realized that it was leucistic.” Although there have been no large studies that show leucism is on the rise, human activity leads me to believe there are more odd-colored birds around.Some of that increase is intentional: Hummingbird expert Sherri Williamson points out that humans sometimes selectively breed for rare qualities like albinism, meaning we’ve created “hundreds of fancy varieties of poultry, pigeons, and cage birds.” But other increases in leucistic birds are accidental: One study done in the wake of the Chernobyl disaster revealed that there was a tenfold increase in the number of leucistic barn swallows locally. With habitat loss (and degraded avian diets resulting from this), human influences, and other environmental factors, the numbers of leucistic birds are bound to increase. That might not always be a good thing, as we’ve seen.  A bird hotline—in the pre-listserv and eBird days—alerted photographer Bob Lewis to this bird about a decade ago, on a garage roof in a Berkeley neighborhood.  It hung around the neighborhood for several days before disappearing. When I asked him what he thought happened to it, he said he suspected “something ate it.”Photographer Torgil Zethson found this western sandpiper on the Newark Slough Trail at the Don Edwards National Wildlife Refuge in the South Bay. Because this almost pure-white bird was so striking, he suspected that it might be the same one photographed a week earlier in Monterey County or even a bird seen in Coos Bay, Oregon ten days before that. (Torgil Zethson)But of course, the other explanation is that perhaps what’s increasing isn’t leucistic bird numbers, but rather the number of people watching and photographing birds. And I’m encouraged—as are the other Bay Area birders who’ve watched them—by those individual birds that keep showing up year after year, like my white-headed girl once did. After four years of backyard visits, she disappeared. Still, eight years later, when spring rolls around, I keep an eye open for her—or perhaps her offspring. Leucistic acorn woodpeckers. (Mark Rauzon)

Birdgirl' marks decade of making nature accessible

Dr Mya-Rose Craig marks 10 years of Black2Nature and calls for wider access to nature across the UK.

'Birdgirl' marks decade of making nature accessibleOliver Edwards PhotographyDr Mya-Rose Craig says Black2Nature has helped hundreds of children over the past decadeAn environmental campaigner who founded a charity to help children from ethnic minorities access nature says the cultural landscape has "shifted" since she began her work a decade ago.Dr Mya-Rose Craig, 23, nicknamed 'Birdgirl', set up Black2Nature at the age of 13 to connect more children from Visible Minority Ethnic (VME) communities with the outdoors.Reflecting on the charity's 10th anniversary, she said the current environment feels "very different"; although there is still "a lot of progress to be made". "It's amazing to look back over the past decade of all the hundreds of kids that we've worked with," she said. "All the different activities, the lives we've changed."Dr Craig said that when she first began speaking about the lack of diversity in nature spaces, the reaction was markedly different."I remember when I first started having these conversations, people didn't want to have them with me," she said."It made them very uncomfortable. I think they didn't want to acknowledge that there was exclusion and racism. So much has shifted in the past decade. "For me, that is really exciting, because I think that is how you build a more sustainable environment, by getting everyone on board."Oliver Edwards PhotographyDr Craig says she has noticed a shift in the cultural landscape over the past decadeBlack2Nature runs camps, day trips and outdoor adventures designed to increase access for VME children, young people and families.The organisation also campaigns for greater racial diversity in the environmental sector and for equal access to green spaces.Dr Craig, who is from the Chew Valley in Somerset, said the idea to set up the charity came from a "very deep love of nature and the environment.""I strongly felt that nature was a very important resource for other kids to have access to in terms of mental and physical health," she said."A lot of these kids have never been to the countryside, so it's about breaking down those assumptions."For a lot of kids that we work with, they feel like the countryside is not a space for them."Research from the Commission for Architecture and the Built Environment (CABE) shows that people from ethnic minorities have an average of 11 times less access to green space than others in society.For parents such as Kumar Sultana, 42, from Bristol, Black2Nature has provided opportunities her family would have otherwise missed."I'm a low-income parent and I can't afford things like camping," she explained.She added the activities have helped her children connect with the natural world and learn about sustainability.Black2NatureBlack2Nature runs camps and adventure trips for childrenMs Sultana, who has a Pakistani background, said she did not have those experiences growing up."We don't have camping in our culture and money is also a barrier to accessing it," she said."Some of the places we've been, I couldn't afford to take my kids."Black2NatureThe charity campaigns for equal access to green spacesTo mark its 10th anniversary, the charity will host a conference at the University of the West of England (UWE) on Wednesday, focusing on race equity, education and career pathways in the environmental sector.Looking ahead, Dr Craig said she hopes to see environmental organisations engage more meaningfully with diverse communities and for young people to be made aware of career prospects in that sector.She also wants wider access to nature across the UK."I'd love to see better quality of green spaces in cities. There's very often a class divide in terms of green spaces, where nicer neighbourhoods have nicer parks."

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