Cunningham dug through old photographs and maps, consulted oil paintings by European settlers, and sought native knowledge.
“I’ve tried to collect as much scientific and cultural information as possible,” she said. She also spent many summers as a naturalist, keeping her eyes peeled for clues from the past, such as “a remnant of a native plant community standing next to or in an urban setting with native plants still standing” or “a creek covered, but sometimes it is revealed and you can see, ‘Oh, wow, here were salmon races.'”
Her research shows how much people have changed the landscape of the Bay Area, using its resources and shaping the land in ways that harmed the animals that once thrived here. Through her work, she has tried to help people imagine what this place looked like centuries ago. But not everyone understands why she does it.
“I was at an art show in San Francisco 10 years ago and showed these paintings of San Francisco and salmon and elk and grizzly bears,” she said. “And a man came to me and he was very bothered by this. And he said, ‘What, you want to destroy our cities and civilization and go back to this?'”
No, she said, of course not. But she wants others to learn about this aspect of our region’s history. That is why she is now turning her out-of-print book into an online curriculum.
Land management and attitudes shape the habitat
Increasingly, California land managers are recognizing that some long-standing policies have been harmful. And they are more open to learning about land management practices from the indigenous people who lived here before European colonization.
Peter Nelson, a professor of ethnic studies and environmental sciences at UC Berkeley, says the coastal Miwok, Pomo, Ohlone and other tribes of this region managed land and cared for animals for generations. Their lifestyle and land management practices improved the habitat for wildlife. They used fire to prevent larger plants such as trees and shrubs from overtaking the native grasslands. That preserved habitat and food sources for rodents and rabbits, birds and insects, and even larger animals, such as moose. Fire also kills pests that affect oak trees and helps preserve acorns as a food supply for both humans and animals.
For a century, the US government despised Native incineration practices, but last year California passed a law allowing Native Americans to claim their place as “fire bosses.” The Forest Service is also re-evaluating the role of prescribed burning and how indigenous knowledge can inform change.
In the 18th and 19th centuries, Europeans arrived in increasing numbers. They brought with them a very different philosophy that had devastating effects on many people and animals.
Nelson points to old diaries written by Father José Altimira, a Spanish missionary who founded the Solano Mission and explored the provinces of Napa and Sonoma. On entry after entry, the priest lists the bears his party killed.
“This afternoon and the next night nothing more happened except our men killing a bear with four cubs, who were discovered very close to us,” Altimira wrote. And: “This afternoon the men of our company killed many bears, animals that offend mankind.”
Before European contact, scientists estimated that there were about 10,000 grizzlies in the state. They coexisted peacefully with the estimated 40,000 Native people living between Napa County and Monterey.
“You see that story of Europeans imposing their views and values on the landscape,” Nelson said.
European missionaries, traders and settlers also ravaged animals through excessive hunting, fishing and trapping. Sea otters and fur seals were besieged for their warm and valuable pelts.
The beaver population was so devastated during the early period of European colonialism that early 20th-century naturalists assumed they had never lived in the Bay Area. But a recent review of scientific data teased evidence suggesting beavers were here. Due to the fur trade, the sea otters have almost disappeared from the entire west coast. They remain endangered to this day and no one currently lives in San Francisco Bay.
By the mid-19th century, European farmers had begun logging the once open countryside with fences to protect their livestock from predators. That limited how far animals like wolves, bears and jaguars could reach in search of food, water and safe places to raise their young.
Tolay Lake, the namesake of the Tolay Lake Regional Park, is nearly dry. An early European colonizer drained it to farm the land. Now a partnership between Sonoma County and the Federated Indians of Graton Rancheria, along with other state, federal and local partners, will prevent this small area from developing further.
An archaeologist, anthropologist, and member of the Federal Indians of Graton Rancheria, Nelson looks at the bottom of the lake—green and moist, even on a hot summer’s day—and knows that this land has more stories to tell about how his ancestors and others lived. and the impact their actions had on other beings.
Nelson knows we’ll never go back to a time when grizzly bears or jaguars roamed the area, but he’s hopeful that we can keep the species that are still there, like the golden eagle. Over time, we may discover more about how humans lived alongside predators and other megafauna.
