Adaptive management in practice—the higher water has killed off much of the vegetarian that used to be growing on dry land, and vast quantities of it have washed ashore. Here we are using a fourchette a foin to clear it off the beach. — Adaptive management in practice—the higher water has killed off much of the vegetarian that used to be growing on dry land, and vast quantities of it have washed ashore. Here we are using a fourchette a foin to clear it off the beach.

And in the afternoon we began building the new boardwalk and dock, necessitated by the higher water. We are using nicely engineered hardware, which is something not readily available in the wilderness. — And in the afternoon we began building the new boardwalk and dock, necessitated by the higher water. We are using nicely engineered hardware, which is something not readily available in the wilderness.

Wilderness or wildland is a natural environment on Earth that has not been significantly modified by civilized human activity. It may also be defined as: "The most intact, undisturbed wild natural areas left on our planet—those last truly wild places that humans do not control and have not developed with roads, pipelines or other industrial infrastructure."

So, clearly, here on Serendipity Lane we are not in wilderness. However, we do have wild. The expanses of water all around are truly wild (although affected by human induced things like quagga mussels). We have all kinds of Insects, and many other creatures who think of them as food. We have a great variety of birds and herps, and many mammals. Furthermore, the human population per square kilometer is tiny, at least at this time of year. What we lack, if we wanted to be a wilderness, are large carnivores.

I suspect that if humans were to remove themselves from this Island for the next 500 years the only detectable difference would be more a frequent presence of bears and wolves (who are already on the Island in limited numbers, I am told).

Wilderness, I submit, is a place you have to walk into, where you have to leave behind all human contrivances. No cells, no wifi, no 911, no carryout, and only a limited amount of freeze-dried. Wilderness is where you are off on your own, using what you know, what you can do, and what you can hunt and gather—just like your distant ancestors.

Here on Serendip we have a road, hydro, and wifi—so not wilderness. But the dead skunk down by Geiser's has remained dead in the very same spot for the past six weeks, without any human intervention, and while it still smells, nothing is left but a backbone.

This morning at 4 a.m. according to the stone-age device known as an iPhone, the non-wilderness all around us was absolutely quiet. Not a breath, not a peep, although the pre-dawn sky was showing brightness. The silence was profound and remained, as the brightness increased. Then, after about half an hour (human time) some early rising bird made a tentative attempt at song, and then a tree frog remembered its evening ecstasy, and then a breeze came sneaking along the shore and started rustling the poplars.

Three hours later, when I got up and put on coffee, the sun was bright, the birds were winding down their morning's work, and a brawny wind was sending noisy surf along the shore.

Ah, Wilderness!