Sayema Islam
MHC200—Environmental Science & Technology
Professor Alexandratos
Bio-Blitz Essay
Spiders and Fresh Kills
“If you think about it, we are literally standing on a pile of shit. That is what this is. A glorified, living shit-pile.”
These were the words of one of my fellow peers from our small, motley crew of spider-hunters, two fortnights ago on that blazing Sunday over in the forgotten land that is Staten Island. Just an orange-accented, breezy ferry ride over from the looming buildings of Manhattan and glass fronted halls of the South Ferry Terminal, past Lady Liberty and the small strip of land that is Governor’s Island, we all trekked our way over to the northern section of Fresh Kills park, a once festering landfill that now sits peacefully green across from the Staten Island mall around Richmond Avenue.
However, my own first impressions of the park, admittedly not quite as black-and-white as those of my heat-plagued peer, were largely mixed. While the basic concept of what the park intrinsically is and represents remains quite astonishing, I do wish the park were a bit more welcoming in terms of its landscaping. (Although, it is important to note here that the project is still not completely finished.) The lush green growth everywhere in the park was quite refreshing considering that the expanse was once a dump, but it would have been more appealing if the various trees and grasses were more tended to, and the wildflowers, less wild—more neat and prim. And the park’s exploration would have been more appealing if one didn’t have to worry about blood sucking ticks latching on to his or her skin while taking a simple walk through the brush, and let’s face it, bits of trash. Stray shoes, rubber tearings, and a yellow, completely hollowed-out strawberry aside however, it is this very wild nature of the park, with small bits of landfill peeking out from underneath, that seems to allow it to house the wide variety of wildlife we observed.
As mentioned earlier, my group set out on Sunday with the task of capturing spiders. Armed with canvas kites and wooden sticks, as well as sweeping spider nets, we ventured in and around the tall grasses and shady trees surrounding the dirt paths of the park in order to observe the multitude of species of spider present. And observe them we did! The spiders would fall onto our canvas kites as we beat at trees and plants with our wooden sticks or get caught in our nets as we swept them across the vegetation, upon which we proceeded to trap them in vials using rubber tubes to suck them up—leaving be any other things we caught such as aphids (which look frustratingly similar to some of the spiders we captured, especially to our untrained eyes), inchworms (which look like thin leaves of some sort until they start to move!), and even a small tree snail. By isolating the spiders, we were able to observe their specific colorings and patterns.
The most abundant spider we found was one of a tan-colored body, about the size of half a grain of rice. And interestingly enough, the rarest spider we found, with a jet-black body and acid green eyes found at the very end of our search, which was also the only one that wasn’t minuscule, was still only about the size of a pea. I couldn’t help but notice that most of the spiders we found were of such small sizes, smaller even than common house spiders; many were perhaps they were not even fully mature. To this effect, the thing that bothered me the most about our activity on that Sunday was the fact that every spider we captured was euthanized in a solution of ethanol, ironically, so that they would not fight and kill one another within the collection vial. Which brings up my biggest question at the end of our enlightening day at Fresh Kills Park.
Does human intervention in favor of any sort of environmental issue often cause just as much, if not more, harm than good? Our activities in Fresh Kills for observing and documenting the types of spiders seemed somewhat counter-productive in that we killed every spider we captured for observation. Although it is probably useful to be aware of what species of wildlife inhabit a certain area, as well as of which species thrive in a certain habitat over others, if the exploration disrupts the habitat in itself, who are we to claim we are preserving it? Not only in terms of our spider captures (even if there are probably many more spiders in the park than those we found), but even of the park itself, I cannot help but wonder what adverse effects having a past landfill buried under the grounds of Fresh Kills may have. Perhaps the biodegradable materials underneath the park will nourish the soil and do well for the wildlife in the park as it seems to have done so far, but what of the non-biodegradables, such as the rubber tearings we found lying around in every opening of the copses of vegetation? What will happen to the wildlife of the park with continued human intervention?
Don’t get me wrong, the Fresh Kills project is definitely one to be applauded in its ambition and its ecological initiative. However, have all the possible outcomes of the project been considered? With so many different species in one area, how long before the competition for resources wipes out one or the other? Or what will happen if the species crossbreed instead? What of invasive species, such as the ones we observed when we began our day by observing the variety of plants growing off the swamp area of the park? And when the area finally does become a park open to the public, what of the untethered wildlife then?
Although I am very glad to have had the opportunity to explore Fresh Kills’ northern park before it has been officially opened to the public, the practices observed as well as the state of the park itself, really do raise a lot of questions in my mind about whether or not humans are really capable of healthily and efficiently preserving our planet and its resources.
