I began work on long-term sites, not by wise and deliberate choice, but by fluke of serendipity: when I arrived in Lethbridge as fledgling scientist, historical plots established there in 1911 were assigned to me. So a better question might be: why do I keep on working on these sites? In pondering the question, three fragmentary responses emerge.
I work on long term sites because of scientific curiosity in the insights they keep revealing, sometimes unexpectedly – often to questions unforeseen. There is pleasure in stumbling upon an urgent new riddle, and then realizing the answer may be lurking in the samples and data of those old plots.
A second reason, more visceral, is the subtle satisfaction of being tied to something – a place and the insights attached to them – that will outlive and supersede my limited, ephemeral contribution. Like planting a tree that will outlast me, there is joy in fostering a place that will yield discoveries I cannot yet foresee.
And thirdly, I work on long-term sites, even after several decades (especially now!), because I see, more and more, the cyclical nature of ecological science – the relentless continuity of growth and decay, leading to higher resilience. As a young scientist (in a period of growth), I had the thrill of learning from the sites left me by my predecessors; now (in my decaying years), I have the joy of nourishing the ground upon which the next generation might see their growth.
If my research managers (or funding agencies) were to ask me why I keep working on those old plots, I might enumerate various concrete, scientific reasons: carbon sequestration, for example, or nitrogen use efficiency. But the real reasons are probably deeper than that. And, in the end, I suspect those deeper reasons are what keep me coming back to those old plots.
Henry Janzen