Gems of the Forest and Guardians of Ecosystem Health

How one unexpected visit revealed the hidden health of our Appalachian farm—and why it matters for all of us.

I learned a lot this week. All from one initial, totally unplanned conversation. And it ended with the illuminating world of…a salamander.

An Ocoee salamander climbs on a fern after a summer rain.

Central Appalachia is home to a vast array of plants and animals, many of which are found nowhere else on Earth. We at The Nature Conservancy have identified it as one of four global focal regions because of its rich biodiversity, its remarkable migration patterns in a world of changing climate, and the deeply interconnected relationships between people and nature. This region, along with southern Appalachia, is also a global biodiversity hotspot—especially for one fascinating group I had, until recently, overlooked: salamanders.

My wife Tracy and I recently invited Alex Funk, a researcher and salamander enthusiast currently pursuing his PhD in Australia, to visit our Farm at Sinking Creek in southwest Virginia. We wanted to discover whether salamanders lived on our property, and if so, what insights they might offer about our decades of personal conservation and stream restoration. Truthfully, the salamander was a world we knew nothing about.

One of four vernal pools at The Farm at Sinking Creek—seasonal wetlands that support a rich community of amphibia, including several salamander species.

A Conservation Journey

Sinking Creek is Tracy’s vision. It’s a farm—though out West it would be called a ranch—of nearly a thousand acres in the Ridge and Valley region of Virginia. This part of the Appalachian Mountain system is known for its long, parallel ridges, scenic vistas, and karst topography rich in caves, springs, and sinkholes.

Tracy purchased the original 10-acre homestead 25 years ago. Through serial acquisitions and a deep conservation ethic, we have expanded it ever since. Today, it’s home to beaver meadows, mountain ridges, spring-fed meadows, silvopastures, a plethora of wildlife, and meandering streams that occasionally disappear underground—true to the name, “Sinking Creek.” A decade ago, we conducted a baseline biological survey led by Dr. Dwayne Estes of the Southeastern Grasslands Institute. Tracy has overseen and executed on continued disciplined conservation ever since, hoping to serve as a model of environmentally conscious land and water management.

The farm is now home to 150 head of cattle, a number of cutting horses, five Tennessee donkeys, and our working dogs—a border collie and Australian shepherds. Tracy manages it all, carefully rotating grazing areas, restoring native grasslands, maintaining silvopastures, conducting prescribed burns, and stewarding forest and soil health. Cattle are limited to designated pastures and cross the creek only at carefully designed and reinforced cattle crossings, with the goal of reducing erosion and protecting stream health. Water management was a focus early on, with livestock supplied by wells and a gravity-fed, hilltop system.

Over 25 years, Tracy has reestablished native grasslands and planted hundreds of trees along the creek, creating riparian buffers—stretches of vegetation along waterways that filter pollutants and stabilize streambanks. These efforts earned the farm the Virginia Clean Water Farm Award in 2017.

The Salamander Moment

Last Thursday, I met Alex Funk in my Nashville office. We had scheduled a 30-minute meeting to talk broadly about conservation—me about The Nature Conservancy, he about his doctoral research. Fifteen minutes into our conversation, I was captivated. I called Tracy and said, “Trace, I just met a fascinating fellow I know you’ll love. Can he join you tomorrow on your trip to the farm? He’s headed back to Australia in three days, so if we’re going to do this, now is the time.”

Tracy, always open to new ideas, replied, “Of course—but what are we going to learn that’s so urgent?”

“All about the salamander,” I said.

And so the journey began. Over the course of just one day on the farm, we saw our land—and our conservation efforts—through entirely new eyes.

A Forest Full of Clues

Alex explained that salamanders are foundational species in forest ecosystems. “Because they are cold-blooded, salamanders are extremely efficient at turning their food, like beetles, ants, and worms, into energy that they use to grow and reproduce,” he said. “They are so good at this, in fact, that forests can support more than two thousand salamanders per hectare.”

A spotted salamander seeks refuge near a mossy root. These salamanders rely on isolated vernal pools—seasonal ponds that fill during early spring rains and dry through the summer—to breed.

In his brief survey of the farm’s ridges and hillsides, Alex found dozens of woodland salamanders hiding under rocks and fallen logs. He quickly identified three species—an indication, he said, of a healthy, intact forest.

Two red salamanders found hiding under leaves in a stream at The Farm.

“These smaller animals,” he explained, “are then eaten as vital protein-rich food by larger predators like robins, jays, owls, eagles, raccoons, snakes, bobcats, and coyotes. Without salamanders, forest ecosystems would collapse, unable to support the diverse plants and animals that directly or indirectly rely on salamanders’ tremendous ability to efficiently convert the bugs they eat into energy for animals higher in the food chain.”

Our appreciation for salamanders skyrocketed.

A Sentinel for Streams

Salamanders, we learned, are also powerful ecological indicators. “Because salamander skin is highly permeable, it absorbs water and pollutants along with the air they breathe,” Alex said. “This makes salamanders particularly vulnerable to pollution—so the salamanders found in and around a stream can tell us a lot about its health.”

In our afternoon stream survey, Alex found four more salamander species, including larvae, juveniles, and even a female guarding a nest of eggs.

A female northern dusky salamander guarding her eggs next to a small stream on The Farm at Sinking Creek. Successful reproduction is crucial for healthy salamander populations like those at The Farm.

“This is terrific!” he said. “When all salamander life stages are present in a stream, you can be sure the water has the quality and food resources to support healthy populations.”

Perhaps the most encouraging moment came when Alex assessed the riparian buffer along one mile of Sinking Creek. “It’s one of the best examples of a restored streambank that I’ve ever seen,” he told us.

Riparian buffers, like this one at The Farm at Sinking Creek, are critical for water quality and stream health. Without them, erosion and pollution can have severe impacts on aquatic ecosystems.

He shared that Sinking Creek was once home to hellbenders, giant aquatic salamanders now listed as a Species of Greatest Conservation Need in Virginia. Human impacts had led to their local extinction—but based on what he saw, Alex believes our restoration efforts may have improved stream conditions enough that hellbenders could one day return.

That gives us inspiration and renewed energy. If additional stretches of the stream can be restored to this level, reintroduction might truly be possible.

The Broader Vision

Tracy and I have worked hard to conserve and restore the ecosystems at The Farm at Sinking Creek. Our efforts have involved many community and governmental partners, including early support from two key U.S. conservation programs: the Natural Resources Conservation Services (NRCS) and the Conservation Reserve Enhancement Program (CREP). Tracy’s early conservation efforts before we met were made possible by the creative collaboration with local District officer the late Bill Keith, whose counsel was invaluable. We hope our model of environmentally conscious agriculture and habitat restoration encourages others to pursue similar partnerships—balancing productive land use with ecological integrity.

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As I reflect on the last four days, here are my final three thoughts:

First, be open to every conversation and every person you meet. You never know what path a serendipitous encounter might open.
Second, never stop learning. We knew nothing about the keystone role of the salamander—or its power as a sentinel for land and water and food and soil health. That connection, ultimately, extends to our own human health and well-being.

And finally, it’s remarkable that one young woman’s dream of restoring a ten-acre farm has grown into an ever-expanding world of conservation, scientific discovery, and inspiration.

Tracy and Alex pictured together after an eye-opening day of salamander discovery and ecological exploration at The Farm.