A dancing bird finally gets some protection

25 long years after the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service rst determined that this magical dancing bird could go the way of the passenger pigeon.

Writers On

What I remember most about that dark early morning of crouching on the prairie is the rhythmic sound of pounding. It was so loud I wondered if someone had put a microphone near the skinny legs of the dozen birds dancing on the turf. As the sun rose above the horizon in southeastern New Mexico, the male lesser prairie chickens continued their ritual performance, each hoping to entice a female. ey strutted, leaped in the air with feathers spread, and bowed, but the greatest thrill was watching them pu up the garish, red-orange air sacs on either side of their necks.

Concealed in a blind, we watched late into the morning that spring of 1999, until the last birds — members of a rapidly vanishing species — ew o .

I recalled that wonderful day recently, because in late March, after countless lawsuits and scienti c opinions, the lesser prairie chicken in New Mexico, Colorado and eastwards nally got what it so desperately needs — federal protection under the Endangered Species Act. e designation, however, comes

In June 1988, the Service did something seemingly mundane, though it had profound consequences. It relegated the lesser prairie chicken to what might be called endangered species purgatory — making its protection status “warranted but precluded” under the Endangered Species Act. Precluded apparently meant, “We should list the birds but nd it impossible to do that.”

For decades, the Fish and Wildlife Service, under pressure from opponents in Congress and powerful industries, has used this designation to delay Endangered Species Act protections for hundreds of species that need an ecological safety net, including the lesser prairie chicken. e result since 1998 has been predictable: e bird’s numbers have plummeted. In many parts of the West, it has disappeared entirely. Lesser prairie chickens now number about 30,000, less than 2% of what they were in the 19th century when the birds ourished in the hundreds of thousands.

Controversy around granting Endangered Species Act protection for the lesser prairie chicken has mainly been about oil and gas development. Meaningful protection of this bird, whose habitat covers millions of acres across New Mexico, Texas, it comes to showing gratitude, I am sure you have your own too, but feel free to put these to good use as well.

Colorado, Kansas and Oklahoma, would mean restraint from the oil and gas and agricultural industries. Pump jacks and plows are the greatest threats to prairie chicken survival.

Kansas Republicans, namely Sen. Roger Marshall and Rep. Tracy Mann, have already pressured the Fish and Wildlife Service to delay the date that the listing takes e ect. Texas has also led a lawsuit to block the listing, and Kansas and Oklahoma are threatening to sue. e long struggle to keep the birds alive is far from over.

Fifty years ago, Congress enacted the Endangered Species Act to recognize the importance of endangered and threatened species, citing their “esthetic, ecological, educational, historical, recreational and scienti c value to the Nation and its people.” e Act’s vision was remarkable, and Americans are fortunate that the law fought for a half-century ago continues to be fought for today.

I am proud that our nation passed this powerful law to protect the diversity of life. But for our nation’s laws to really mean something, they must be enforced, even when — especially when — opponents are among the most economically and politically powerful industries. ing myself: Am I saying thank you enough? Am I showing gratitude to everyone, not just those closest to me? Am I living out the actions of living and working with an attitude of gratitude?

You’d think that identifying a species as “endangered” meant that there was still time to save it. But the prairie chicken, along with its high-pro le distant cousin, the sage grouse, is running out of time. e birds need lots of open space, and the new designation only puts some constraints on existing oil and gas operations, while limiting new development.

Later this spring, I intend to return to the prairies near the town of Milnesand, New Mexico, this time with my nine-year-old twins in tow. I can only hope that the birds are still dancing. I also hope that my boys have the opportunity to watch and wonder about why these birds return to woo females at the same place each spring, and what we, as a society, must do to ensure that the dance continues.

John Horning is a contributor to Writers on the Range, an independent nonpro t dedicated to spurring lively conversation about the West. He is the executive director of WildEarth Guardians and lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Again, it’s spring, it’s less than a week past Easter, and it’s the perfect time for new beginnings as life seems to be blooming all around us.

You have all probably heard about this thing called a gratitude challenge. It’s where we are challenged to come up with a few things every day that we are grateful for. One of my close friends, John Brokken, does this every day and posts his gratitude list on social media. It’s one of my very favorite things to read each day.

Here are a few ways that I am changing in my word choices when

“ ank you very much.” “I appreciate you so very much.” “I am so grateful for you.” “I am so thankful that you are in my life.” “ ank you for being such a blessing to me.”

How about you? Is it time for new beginnings in your own life? And would a new beginning have a better chance of success if you started with lling your gratitude bucket? I would love to hear your story at gotonorton@gmail.com, and when we remember to show our gratitude, even just a simple and sincere “thank you,” it really will be a better than good life.

Michael Norton is an author, a personal and professional coach, consultant, trainer, encourager and motivator of individuals and businesses, working with organizations and associations across multiple industries.

BY RYLEE DUNN RDUNN@COLORADOCOMMUNITYMEDIA.COM

An tiques might seem like a eld that’s struggling to rebound from the COVID-19 pandemic, but the local scene in Elizabeth — and elsewhere in Colorado — suggests a renaissance of sorts might be occurring in the industry.

Randy Wallace owns Randy’s Antiques and Art on Main Street in Elizabeth. e bustling scene in town — featuring e Prickly Pear Antiques, e Carriage Shoppes and 1897 House of Antiques, among others — breeds community, not competition, he said.

“ e more stores in town, the better,” Wallace said. “People love to come antique shopping when there are multiple stores. Each one of our shops has a di erent niche, each one has just a little bit di erent style; I think customers enjoy having a di erent variety when they come to Elizabeth.”

Wallace said that while his shop specializes in antique art and furniture, others cater to di erent interests, like the Prickly Pear’s tearoom.

Over in Littleton, owner Joe Crawford of Old Crow Antiques had the novel idea to add a root beer bar to his shop, with the eventual goal of making the soda section — which currently carries between 60-90 varieties of vintage soda pop at any given time — the largest root beer bar in the world.

Crawford said Old Crow — which he opened three years ago with his brother — is one of the “new kids on the block” in the local antiquing scene, but said they’ve been welcomed into the scene with open arms.

“I feel like we’re part of a larger community in the metro area,” Wallace said. “ ere are stores throughout the area, and we’ve gotten to know the people who own and work there — some have been here a long time.”

Nostalgia and good, old-fashioned, quality craftsmanship

Antique shops can often sprawl thousands of square feet — Old Crow’s showroom is over 45,000 square feet — packed with items from all eras and purposes. Shopkeepers say that a sense of longing for a di erent time helps people nd what they’re looking for out of the scores of inventories, in addition to the fact that many antiques have stood the test of time for a reason.

“In antique furniture, it’s already lasted 100 years, and — if you take care of it — it’ll last another 100 years,” Wallace said. “A lot of today’s stu is kind of throwaway.”

Julie McCoy, who runs own Unique Treasures Antiques and Collectibles in Wheat Ridge with her parents, echoed Wallace’s sentiment.

“(Antiques are) made so much better,” McCoy said. “ ey’re around 100 years later for a reason. It’s not like Ikea stu that you put together and throw away. It’s good quality