The petition includes the first estimate of the total acreage of piñon-juniper habitat currently handled by the U.S. Bureau of Land Management and the U.S. Forest Service in states with pinyon jay populations. Estimates “reveal a widespread loss of suitable habitat for pinyon jays on federal lands,” with more than 440,000 acres affected, according to the petition.
That’s why it’s so important to list the jay pinyon bird as endangered, says Bird. Johnson agreed, saying that listing the pinyon jay as endangered would have a “huge impact” as agencies would be required to change their management plans.
Throughout history, indigenous Peoples in the West sought out piñon seeds and relied on them as an important food source during the winter and lean years. When the Spaniards arrived in the Southwest in the 1500s, they also began collecting protein-rich nuts. The long tradition of families harvesting piñon nuts continues in many communities today. However, threats to the piñon forest jeopardize these cultural practices.
“I’ve been picking piñon since I could,” says Raymond Sisneros, a retired horticulture teacher who farmed outside of Cuban town and traced his line to the first Spanish settlers. walk.
If the pine trees near the house don’t spawn, his family drives to another location. His grandfather taught him how to harvest nuts, and he sold them door-to-door in a nearby town. Piñon is not a dish, but a “way of life”, a source of both food and revenue. It is now rare to find piñon in New Mexico for sale.
The last time Sisneros had a big crop near home was four years ago, and family members have traveled from as far away as Tennessee and California to collect piñon. But those traditions may be coming to an end. “I am scared because our piñon forest is about to disappear,” he said. Large trees that once produced more than a hundred pounds of piñon seeds, he said, are dying because of the drought.
Val Panteah, governor of Zuni Pueblo in northwestern New Mexico, said many tribe members gather piñon in late fall. He recalled harvesting pigeons with his family as a teenager, climbing up trees and shaking branches so the seeds fell onto bed sheets on the ground.
Panteah has observed changes in piñon crops over the years. “When I was really young, it seemed like every year” or every year for a big crop, he said, “but now, it seems like every four years.”
The jays may offer the best hope of resilience for piñon-juniper forests. They are “the only species capable of moving the forest uphill if there is a fire,” says Johnson, “or replanting an insect-infested or arid area” by removing seeds from degraded areas.
However, the close connection between these species also leads to what Johnson calls a vicious cycle. If the bird is lost, the forest cannot be replanted.
If forest land is not replanted, bird populations will decline.
For trees, for birds, and for people, she said, “it would be tragic for us to lose these forests.”
