A person visiting the Caribbean as a tourist is likely to indulge in a number of activities. They will bask in the tropical sunshine and swim in the clear turquoise water. They may snorkel about the coral or walk along soft white and pink beaches by day and sip rum drinks by night. But will the tourist take note of the wildlife around them? Of course they'll see the birds by the water, and the dazzling reef fish below their sailboats, and they may enjoy the sights and smells of colorful flowering trees and vines planted around the resorts and hotels.
But a typical Caribbean tourist may notice other wildlife in their vacation surroundings. Being the tropics, there are insects, of every size from microscopic to heroic. Richly flowered landscapes feed nectar-loving creatures, and the insects feed an array of birds and reptiles. Wildlife that doesn't appear in tourist brochures, from mosquitoes to feral pigs, makes up the majority of the island fauna. Outside of the fenced developments wild plants cope with an assault of countless loose livestock animals, and only the hardiest can thrive.
There are cities small and large throughout the West Indies, but by a certain definition, nearly all of the land can be considered urban. The landscape has been drastically altered since the time of Columbus, when the first goats and pigs--and unintentionally, rats--were set loose on the islands. The succeeding centuries saw intense agricultural use, monocultures of tobacco and then sugar, driven by imported human slave labor. Only in the twentieth century did the tourist trade develop, and the concept of island paradise swept through the Antilles. To Europeans and North Americans, the Caribbean appears to be an unspoiled natural playground of sun and sand. Step away from the palm tree and sunset image and the natural landscape is closer in ecology to any long-settled suburb.
The pleasure for me visiting Antigua, beyond the obvious delights of warm air and water, gorgeous uncrowded beaches, and rum by the pool, is seeing the natural history of an unfamiliar environment. Like in North America, many species have been eliminated and extirpated, many before they even had the chance to be described. And likewise, a few species that were once small in number were pre-adapted to the ecology that came with human development. These few are worth understanding and appreciating. These are the species we share the future with--those animals and plants that can thrive in our cities and neighborhoods, alongside our livestock and crops, hotels and bars.
A little more than a week was what I had, and I'll post one species from Antigua for each day I missed. Each day I'll also keep up with the project; April and May promise to offer more choices than previous months. As usual, the best photographs come from
cottonmanifesto, but I couldn't keep my hands off my camera either, so I'll post some of those as well.
Later today I'll get back to it, but in the meanwhile, here's some of the landscape for you to enjoy:
( click for panorama )
But a typical Caribbean tourist may notice other wildlife in their vacation surroundings. Being the tropics, there are insects, of every size from microscopic to heroic. Richly flowered landscapes feed nectar-loving creatures, and the insects feed an array of birds and reptiles. Wildlife that doesn't appear in tourist brochures, from mosquitoes to feral pigs, makes up the majority of the island fauna. Outside of the fenced developments wild plants cope with an assault of countless loose livestock animals, and only the hardiest can thrive.
There are cities small and large throughout the West Indies, but by a certain definition, nearly all of the land can be considered urban. The landscape has been drastically altered since the time of Columbus, when the first goats and pigs--and unintentionally, rats--were set loose on the islands. The succeeding centuries saw intense agricultural use, monocultures of tobacco and then sugar, driven by imported human slave labor. Only in the twentieth century did the tourist trade develop, and the concept of island paradise swept through the Antilles. To Europeans and North Americans, the Caribbean appears to be an unspoiled natural playground of sun and sand. Step away from the palm tree and sunset image and the natural landscape is closer in ecology to any long-settled suburb.
The pleasure for me visiting Antigua, beyond the obvious delights of warm air and water, gorgeous uncrowded beaches, and rum by the pool, is seeing the natural history of an unfamiliar environment. Like in North America, many species have been eliminated and extirpated, many before they even had the chance to be described. And likewise, a few species that were once small in number were pre-adapted to the ecology that came with human development. These few are worth understanding and appreciating. These are the species we share the future with--those animals and plants that can thrive in our cities and neighborhoods, alongside our livestock and crops, hotels and bars.
A little more than a week was what I had, and I'll post one species from Antigua for each day I missed. Each day I'll also keep up with the project; April and May promise to offer more choices than previous months. As usual, the best photographs come from
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Later today I'll get back to it, but in the meanwhile, here's some of the landscape for you to enjoy:
( click for panorama )