I attended university in the United States, which is very different from Mexico in some regards. For example, despite them not being within my area of study, students at my university were required to take some courses of generalized education across five areas. When I tell people here about this, they are confused; it seems unnecessary. However one of the courses I selected (we had some choice), while at the time seeming to be easy and common sense, has resonated with me throughout my life and I think about it a lot. The course was entitled Beyond Sovereignty and it covered things that did not end at borders. To date myself: the syllabus specifically covered AIDS and ocean pollution. I think of nature in many ways as beyond sovereignty as well, though of course individual governments can and should make decisions about its protection and utilization.
But birds soar, insects crawl, seeds float, etc. Nature cares not where a boundary lies or what we call a lake or even it.
With that in mind, please share your favorite species, rare or common, whose habitat spans some boundary, any boundary. It can be a species that migrates or stays put.
To start, I will share that my heart always gets a little full when I see anything like this pepper elder (Peperomia pellucida), absurdly thwarting the boundaries man would impose of concrete:
My favorite little flower to spot though is the common Tridax Daisy (Tridax procumbens), which to my knowledge is almost everywhere, boundaries shmoundaries!
Well, all migratory birds, of course, are greatly to be admired and certainly have no respect for boundaries. But my favorites are the ruby-throated hummingbirds, who come to the Northern U.S. to delight me every summer, then head South to winter in your country. If you see my friends, say hi for me…
I live in a forest. I don’t know what photos I have showing a favorite “trespass of boundary” category, new life growing in old life… the baby trees sprouting from a different tree’s deadfall, the plants that root in tree crevices…
along with the dedication to life shown in the city cracks.
The symbolism of determination of life and growth in unlikely places isn’t lost on me.
The peregrine falcon is literally named after its wandering habits. They inhabit every continent except Antarctica.
Another choice is any invasive species, but they’re sure as heck not my favorites.
You may be thinking of it literally, but many species have habitats that span boundaries without being invasive, per se, for example plants that are found in more than one country. Sea life.
(I have a friend in the southernmost state of India whose garden often seems to mirror mine, which makes us both laugh.)
The rare male Jaguar that shows up in Arizona or New Mexico since the late 20th century is a wanderer, presumably from the northernmost known population in Sonora, Mexico. Sometimes one stays on this side of the border for years, another might make a quick visit and head back south where it has better luck finding a mate.
We have jaguars here, and every few years the news will report one found hit on an isolated road at night. My heart lurches each time, such a loss. They are beautiful.
I have edited my original post to provide another example to show more of what I mean. I do not mean only one individual of a species crossing a boundary. That would be very difficult to provide examples of!
I mean that the habitat of an entire species may span boundaries.
I apologize that this was not clear. (It was quite early when I typed and I had not yet had coffee.)
And let’s not forget those delightful wanderers the Monarch butterflies!
Not only do they make their astonishing migrations between North and Central America, but when they are in my corner of the world, their meandering behavior as they wend their way from flower to flower in my fields and garden seems like a more leisurely form of wandering. (No doubt the lack of urgency is merely my own perception, as they are surely rushing to find food and mates…)
The Wandering Glider or Globe Skimmer might be the record holder for wandering insects. Always fun to see them wherever I happen to be in the summer, including in Hawaii. They really are global wanderers.
Among the marine wanderers, Glaucus atlanticus, the sea swallow (or blue dragon, which is a better name). I’ve seen them here, but I don’t have a photo.
Birdwatchers just love to find and share examples of individual birds that crossed boundaries they weren’t “supposed” to cross. Great fun! Just in western Oregon right now we have birds from Siberia that “should” be wintering in eastern Asia: a White Wagtail that’s sticking around and a Baikal Teal and a Ruff that were seen briefly and haven’t been relocated (yet). Also a Hooded Oriole (SW N America) and a Wood Thrush (E N America). And two Costa’s Hummingbirds that didn’t cross boundaries they should have; they didn’t go south as usual.
To get back to your intended subject, though, the Wandering Tattler, a small gray sandpiper, is appropriately named. It breeds in eastern Siberia and northwestern North America and winters all around the Pacific Ocean, south to Australia, New Zealand, and Chile, and including all the Pacific Islands.
One of the wonderful things about nature is that it couldn’t care less about our political boundaries, so it’s actually pretty difficult to find a habitat that allows itself to be interrupted by a human frontier. Unless of course that frontier also coincides with a natural boundary creating different conditions on either side, such as a mountain crest.
One example of a cross frontier wanderer that springs to mind is the Eurasian lynx. After its extinction in the region, it was re-introduced in Slovenia in 1973. Over the next decades, it spread to Croatia, Bosnia, Herzegovina, Italy and Austria and is now the subject of a cross-frontier European Union Life project, Life Lynx working to save it from extinction a second time.
We have Canada Lynx here in New Mexico, possibly not regularly and there are no historical records from the state. But thanks to reintroductions in Colorado, they might be wandering across the state line and we have some marginally suitable habitat for them. It does generate some interesting discussion about political jurisdictions and management in relation to a species that might not have been here before (but could have been) but might establish here in the future.
I have long had a fondness for what are termed ocean drift seeds. These are seeds – mostly tropical – which remain viable even after weeks or months of floating in seawater. The coconut is perhaps the most famous; but others are so commonly associated with drifting for long distances that they even have the word “sea” in their name: “sea bean” (Mucuna spp.), “sea heart” (Entada gigas), and this one, the “sea almond” (terminalia catappa):
As ocean currents take no notice of human boundaries, neither do drift seeds. These plants tend to occur throughout tropical coastlines and archipelagoes. Occasional sea hearts are even found on beaches as far away as Ireland, although by that time they have been drifting so long that they are inviable and in any case could not survive in the Irish climate.
Ash-throated Flycatcher is a notorious wanderer during the winter. Was lucky enough to get this one for 7 days between 12/26 and 1/1, until it unfortunately passed. Sometimes ones who wander are lost, and they can pay the ultimate price for it.
