Post by Zoe!!!

Strawberry Creek Decal- Restoring The North Fork
Zoe Rudow

Before enrolling in the Strawberry Creek Decal, I was under the general impression that if it was green, it was good. I didn’t (ok, actually I couldn’t) distinguish between the deep green of the ever-expansive ivy and the green leaves of the Buckeye. But in this semester I was able to get out of the classroom and into the creek to learn about a piece of campus that I see and hear almost every day. The decal taught me about the history of the creek, the biodiversity that exists within and around it, and ways that Berkeley has used environmental planning to reverse some of the destruction that urbanization has done to the wildlife and vitality of the creek. As part of our class requirements, we had to do six hours of creek restoration. I am lucky enough to live on the north fork of Strawberry Creek, so my restoration hours were done in the backyard of my coop, Kingman Hall.
Our coop, led by our “Creek Keeper” Sara Rosa Tannenbaum, organized a neighborhood creek clean up, so that the community living around the North Fork of Strawberry Creek could get together and work to restore the creek. We worked removing ivy from the banks of the creek, making sure to get it down to the roots. It was an opportunity to meet our neighbors, take a break from the studying, and get a little dirty and sweaty down by the creek. Throughout the semester, Sara Rose held other restoration events where we had to tackle the brambly blackberry bushes and free a buckeye from strangling ivy. Although the restoration requirements for the decal are minimal, it allowed me a much-needed escape during hectic the semester. But unlike other romps in the outdoors, after the decal I knew the difference between the eucalyptus and the oak, the sticky monkey and the ivy. The creek, and the plants and biodiversity around it has become familiar. Strawberry Creek Decal- Restoring The North Fork

Zoe Rudow

Before enrolling in the Strawberry Creek Decal, I was under the general impression that if it was green, it was good. I didn’t (ok, actually I couldn’t) distinguish between the deep green of the ever-expansive ivy and the green leaves of the Buckeye. But in this semester I was able to get out of the classroom and into the creek to learn about a piece of campus that I see and hear almost every day. The decal taught me about the history of the creek, the biodiversity that exists within and around it, and ways that Berkeley has used environmental planning to reverse some of the destruction that urbanization has done to the wildlife and vitality of the creek. As part of our class requirements, we had to do six hours of creek restoration. I am lucky enough to live on the north fork of Strawberry Creek, so my restoration hours were done in the backyard of my coop, Kingman Hall.
Our coop, led by our “Creek Keeper” Sara Rosa Tannenbaum, organized a neighborhood creek clean up, so that the community living around the North Fork of Strawberry Creek could get together and work to restore the creek. We worked removing ivy from the banks of the creek, making sure to get it down to the roots. It was an opportunity to meet our neighbors, take a break from the studying, and get a little dirty and sweaty down by the creek. Throughout the semester, Sara Rose held other restoration events where we had to tackle the brambly blackberry bushes and free a buckeye from strangling ivy. Although the restoration requirements for the decal are minimal, it allowed me a much-needed escape during hectic the semester. But unlike other romps in the outdoors, after the decal I knew the difference between the eucalyptus and the oak, the sticky monkey and the ivy. The creek, and the plants and biodiversity around it has become familiar.

Berkeley High School Student's Rap

Chillin' at Berkeley river side bed

but I bet you didn't know it could've been dead

With help from the students who let it survive

Aren't we glad that it's alive

Environment, climate, and all that jazz

You can help it if you want with a little pizazz

KELLY NEVADA WIGGIN'S END-OF-SEMESTER POST

On Tuesday I went to the Nursery to meet up with Tyler to do some restoration hours. I was the only one who showed up that day, and even though I would have liked to be working with other people, I was enjoying working on my own. I was removing invasive grasses at the south side of VLSB, and all was going well until I suddenly got hurt. I felt something pop in my knee, and after a few moments of incredible pain, it felt like whatever moved in my knee went back in to place. After some minutes of Tyler and me trying to figure out what to do, I took a few tentative steps and it happened again. I fell to the ground and Tyler called The Loop to pick us up and take us to the Tang Center. There would be no more creek for me today.

I’m a film student, and apart from messing around in creeks when I was a little kid, catching tadpoles and things, I was never what you might call formally introduced to riparian ecosystems. I work at an art museum and a film archive. I’m an artsy-fartsy, indoors kind of gal. As such, I sometimes see things in terms of cinematic composition, how one could frame shots for maximum beauty and expression (don’t worry, I’m going somewhere with this). When the golf cart came, Tyler walked over to explain, and I was sitting on the bank of the creek. Just beyond the cart, the coast live oak trees were dropping their leaves. There were so many falling, gently but insistently, against a splendid backdrop of autumn color. Tyler was framed nearly symmetrically by trees. The serendipity and loveliness of the moment took my breath away. As filmic compositions go, it was totally harmonious and almost looked staged. It was one of the greatest tiny little moments I’ve had at Cal and I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.

My perspective at that moment was unusual, low to the ground and at a slight diagonal. Had I
not been sitting so, I probably wouldn’t have noticed something so beautiful. And that, my friends, has been my experience of the Strawberry Creek Restoration DeCal in the proverbial nutshell. If I hadn’t taken this class, would I have noticed they were oak leaves falling? Hard to say. Probably not. I definitely wouldn’t have been able to use the word “riparian” in a sentence, mostly because I’d never heard it before the first class meeting. More to the point, being close to the creek, learning about it and helping it, has changed the way I see my environment. I’m more aware now of the interconnectedness of things: the roots supporting creek banks, the leaves that give food to the creatures that live in and around the water, and the water that nurtures those very plants. I’m always grateful for opportunities for a new perspective on things, and getting to know Strawberry Creek these past few months has been just that.