Interpretive Panels & Sculptures

In 1983, with funding from the California State Coastal Conservancy, I began making the artwork and writing the text for a series of interpretive panels now installed in parks and preserves along the 1,100 mile long California coast. Topics ranged from the plight of salmon to the migration of butterflies. In 1991 I organized a traveling exhibit of the original art for these panels. This show traveled for three years, visiting the San Diego Museum of Natural History, the San Francisco Academy Of Sciences and the Montclair Museum Of History And Art, to name a few venues. I continue to create interpretive work, sculpture as well as the panels, through funding from several California State agencies. Below are samples of this art and text. For high quality digital posters of this art in any size, visit Pele's Fire, and enter Erica Fielder in the 'Artist' field. All text and art copyright 2000-2001 by Erica Fielder

Trail Markers	This trail marker is one of a series of salmon sculptures installed along the Fern Creek Trail in Van Damme State Park, Little River, California. 1/4" steel and rebar. Approximately 24" x 30". Dan Smithberg, blacksmith

Bird Migration 32" x 40" with text. Pastel over gouache printed on Plexiglas.

As daylight hours decrease and food becomes scarce in the northern hemisphere, millions of birds begin to migrate southward where longer, warmer days assure an abundance of food. Utilizing highly complex sensory systems, and an ability to metabolize enormous quantities of food quickly, migrating birds make proficient travelers. Some fly only by day, navigating by sun and an ancient memory of such landmarks as river valleys and coastlines. Others, winging at night, are guided by the earth's magnetism, the moon and the stars. On one amazing journey, a banded ruddy turnstone flew, with unswerving determination, an average of 649 miles a day on its trip from Alaska to Chile. Blackbellied plovers, traveling between northern tundras and the Galapagos Islands, have been clocked flying at speeds of fifty miles an hour. Thus, migrating birds are bound to our steadily diminishing wetlands by their desperate search for food during such journeys. Will we, in our lifetime, witness the demise of these amazing creatures? Or can we act now to halt the continuing destruction of our few remaining wetlands? Text by Erica Fielder

Ducks And Geese 32" x 40" with text. Pastel over gouache printed on Plexiglas.

The Hookooeko say: The home of Ducks and Geese is far, far up the coast in the region of extreme cold in Kon'-win, the North. This, they say, is on the other side of the sky. The way to Kon'-win lies between two high hills which go together and come apart. It is said that this is wal'-le-kah'-pah, the Gateway, ever opening and ever closing. The hills are never still. In spring when the Ducks and Geese fly north, they pass between Wal'-le-kah'-pah and they make their nests there and they raise their children there. In fall the moving hills open and close with great rapidity. Only the swiftest birds can swoop through bringing their children. Bringing their children south. A Miwok story.

Monarchs 32" x 40" with text. Pastel over gouache printed on Plexiglas.

Every autumn hundreds of thousands of monarch butterflies, fleeing the impending deadly winter frosts of much of the U.S. and southern Canada, migrate incredible distances to reach the same few groves of trees in the mild climate of central California coast the the mountains of central Mexico. individual monarchs have been known to travel more than 1,800 miles to reach the winter havens of their ancestors. How these tiny insects navigate remains a mystery, for none of the previous year's migrants have survived to lead the way. Stimulated by the lengthening days of spring, shimmering masses of butterflies mate and then fly inland and north in search of the milkweed plant. Milkweed is essential to monarchs, providing them with food, protection, and a nursery for their young. Milkweed is important in yet another way. Although harmless to the monarch, the toxic juices of the milkweed are concentrated in the bodies of these insects during their caterpillar stage. The adult's striking orange, black, and white wing patterns, and the bright hues of the larva, are more than just whims of nature. Like a human that has learned to avoid the black and white stripes of a skunk, a bird will recognize the pattern and rarely sample another monarch after its first bitter taste. The protective coloring of these delicate creatures is so effective that over countless centuries other butterfliesăsuch as the viceroy, painted lady, and red admiralăhave evolved colorations that mimic that of the monarch. Some of the monarch's crucial wintering groves on the Monterey Peninsula are protected. However, a number of groves are still vulnerable to destruction from housing and other development for our own burgeoning population. The survival of these fragile wisps of life and color can only be assured if we preserve their essential habitats. Text by Greg Grantham and Erica Fielder

Seals and Sea Lions 32" x 40" with text. Pastel over gouache printed on Plexiglas.

California's pinnipeds -- the seals and sea lions -- probably evolved from the same ancestral lines of land mammals that gave rise to bears and weasels. In the course of their successful adaptation to life in the sea, these mammals developed similar features to survive in their watery world. Their sleek, streamlined bodies and powerful flippers enable them to move through the water with a grace and speed exceeding that of many fishes. Other adaptations allow these air-breathing mammals to pursue their prey to great depths. Unusually large quantities of oxygen are stored in their blood and muscles, much like a scuba-diver carries a tank of air for diving. While submerged, pinnipeds use their limited supplies of oxygen conservatively. Their heart rate drops dramatically and the flow of oxygen-rich blood is limited to the heart, brain, and muscles. These measures are effective, for the northern elephant seal often dives to depths exceeding 4,000 feet, and may remain submerged for over an hour. Regardless of how far or deep they venture to sea however, pinnipeds still retain an important tie to the terrestrial existence of their ancestors: they all must return to land to give birth. The tendency of seals and sea lions to gather at predictable times and locations has made them easy targets for humans seeking their fur, flesh, or oil. The near extermination of many species led to the passage of protective legislation in many countries. Despite these laws, more insidious threatsăincluding chemical pollutants, fishing nets, plastic wastes, and offshore oil explorationănow menace these marine mammals. We must treat the ocean and its inhabitants with care and respect, for the health of this planet is ultimately dependent on the health of its oceans.

Freshwater Marsh 32" x 40" with text. Pastel over gouache printed on Plexiglas.

Freshwater wetlands are actually a collection of distinct habitats that provide homes and resting places for a great number of birds, mammals, insects, reptiles and amphibians. Winter floods create deep ponds that attract diving ducks such as canvasbacks, as well as shallow marshes and muddy spots that entice teals and geese. The broad stands of tules and cattails that meander through this marsh are filled with seeds and insects and provide nesting places for wrens, sparrows and blackbirds. Willows and other streamside trees shelter warblers and swallows, and become observation points for falcons, shrikes and hawks. Under cover of night, muskrats, voles, foxes, skunks, raccoons and bobcats search for seeds, insects, frogs, snakes, rodents and birds. Some freshwater marshes, especially those found along California's coast, empty into a salty estuary or bay, creating a unique blend of fresh and salt waters called "brackish." Because most plants and animals cannot tolerate saltwater, these fresh and brackish marshes serve as nursery areas where young birds, fish and other aquatic species can develop and become accustomed to the more salty estuary and ocean environments. Marshy pools of freshwater once dotted the vast central valley and coastal prairies of California. While many have since been drained and filled for other uses, the remaining wetlands provide critical habitat that supports migrating birds along the Pacific Flyway. These wetlands act as giant sponges that help regulate winter floodwaters, recharge underground aquifers, filter pollutants from runoff and improve water quality.