Restoring Eden’s Deer

Inside the Jerusalem Biblical Zoo’s Persian Fallow Deer Restoration Project

By Chester Moore

For the Persian fallow deer, survival has never come easily.

Once common across parts of the ancient Middle East, this remarkable animal disappeared from Israel centuries ago and was eventually believed lost forever. Its rediscovery in Iran during the 1950s transformed what many thought was a story of extinction into one of hope. Since then, generations of conservationists have worked patiently to restore the species to the landscapes where it once belonged.

That work continues today.

Photo courtesy Jerusalem Biblical Zoo.

Earlier this year, wildlife biologists prepared another carefully planned a release designed to strengthen Israel’s growing wild population of Persian fallow deer. The animals were healthy. Their release sites had been selected. Spring had arrived, bringing the lush vegetation that gives newly released deer their greatest opportunity to adapt to life in the wild.

Then the mission was delayed.

Military conflict disrupted GPS signals used to track the deer after their release, making it impossible for conservationists to reliably monitor the animals through their satellite collars. Rather than risk decades of painstaking conservation work, the team postponed the release until those systems could once again provide the information needed to safeguard the animals.

It was a powerful reminder that wildlife conservation does not happen apart from the rest of the world. Even the most carefully planned restoration efforts can be affected by events far beyond the control of the scientists, veterinarians and field biologists dedicated to protecting them.

Yet if the history of the Persian fallow deer teaches us anything, it is this: perseverance has always been the foundation of its remarkable comeback.

A Living Link to Biblical History

The Persian fallow deer is more than an endangered species. It represents a living connection to the biblical landscape and one of conservation’s most remarkable restoration stories.

“The beginning of this project is actually in the Bible,” said Dr. Shai Ben-Ami, Director of Development for the Jerusalem Biblical Zoo. “

The Persian fallow deer was mentioned in the Bible as one of the pure animals.

Collared Persian fallow deer being released. (Photo courtesy Jerusalem Biblical Zoo)

That Biblical significance became one of the driving forces behind saving the species after a small population was rediscovered in Iran in 1955.

“This is one of the reasons why zoos and wildlife authorities really wanted to have this specific species,” Ben-Ami said.

“It was thought to be extinct until they discovered a small group in Iran in 1955.”

Instead of becoming another tragic chapter in extinction history, the Persian fallow deer suddenly represented something extraordinary—a second chance.

A Gift Worth More Than Cadillacs

Like many remarkable wildlife stories, the restoration of the Persian fallow deer almost sounds too unbelievable to be true.

Ben-Ami shared the remarkable story of how the project began.

The brother of the Shah of Iran visited Israel to hunt ibex. Grateful for the experience, he offered expensive gifts in return.

“They asked… he offered Cadillacs. He offered cars,” Ben-Ami said.

“They said, ‘We don’t need that. We really need a few Persian fallow deer from your group.'”

His answer was simple.

“‘You helped me. Let me help you.'”

That extraordinary gesture made it possible to begin building a breeding population, but events soon threatened to end the effort before it had truly begun.

A large Persian fallow deer buck. (Photo by Chester Moore)

As Iran moved toward the 1979 Iranian Revolution, conservationists realized the window to move the deer out of the country was rapidly closing. Four female Persian fallow deer were transported from the reserve where they had been protected toward Tehran. During the journey, several were found to be pregnant, providing an unexpected boost to the tiny founder population. Those females were later joined by two males from Germany, creating the nucleus of the breeding program that ultimately made the species’ return to Israel possible.

Looking back today, it is astonishing to realize how much depended on those six animals.

Entire wildlife restoration programs are often are remembered for the thousands of animals that eventually roam the landscape. What we sometimes forget is that many begin with only a handful of founders—and the determination of people who recognize that an opportunity to save a species may never come again.

Bringing a Biblical Species Home

The first releases into the wild began during the late 1980s. When the Jerusalem Biblical Zoo relocated to its current site, it embraced the project as one of its defining conservation missions.

In fact, the Persian fallow deer became so important to the institution that it replaced the lion as the zoo’s official logo—a symbol that restoring native wildlife had become central to the zoo’s identity.

The work was anything but simple.

Animals were released into suitable habitat in Israel’s Judean Hills, but wildlife managers soon encountered unexpected obstacles. Packs of free-ranging dogs entered protected areas and preyed upon some of the deer before the problem could be addressed. Like virtually every restoration project around the world, setbacks became part of the journey rather than the end of it.

Today, between 150 and 200 Persian fallow deer live in the wild in Israel, and additional releases are based not on arbitrary numbers but on science.

Fawns born in the wild are a sign of success. (Photo courtesy Jerusalem Biblical Zoo)

“We decide to release according to what is the need in the wild,” Ben-Ami explained. Researchers monitor births, survival and population trends before determining how many animals should be released each year.

That philosophy mirrors successful restoration projects throughout North America.

Desert bighorn sheep restoration in Texas has required decades of careful planning, habitat management and ongoing monitoring. American bison restoration has followed a similarly patient path. Wildlife conservation isn’t measured by the excitement of release day. It is measured years later, when animals born in the wild raise offspring of their own.

Desert bighorn released into Franklin Mountains of West Texas in 2024. (Photo by Chester Moore)

The Persian fallow deer has reached that point.

And yet another challenge remains largely invisible to the public.

“When you have such a small population, that’s a big problem,” Ben-Ami said of genetics. “We monitor the breeding… we send it to laboratories… and we work with the European zoo association… to make sure the genetics will be fine.”

For Ben-Ami and his colleagues, conservation does not end when an animal is released. It continues through careful genetic management, cooperation among zoological institutions and constant scientific evaluation to ensure the population remains healthy for generations to come.

Restoring What Was Lost

The Persian fallow deer may be the Jerusalem Biblical Zoo’s best-known conservation success, but it represents something much larger than the recovery of a single species. It reflects a philosophy that has shaped the institution for decades—one centered not simply on exhibiting wildlife, but on restoring it.

Around the world, many zoological institutions support conservation through grants, research partnerships and field projects. Those contributions are invaluable. Yet Ben-Ami believes the Jerusalem Biblical Zoo has carved out a unique role by becoming directly involved in bringing species back to the wild.

“We looked it up,” he said.

“We have more than five or six different projects of reintroduction, which is very unique even in the zoo world.”

The success of the Persian fallow deer restoration reflects a conservation philosophy that now reaches from mammals to birds and even amphibians, with each project sharing the same ultimate goal of returning native wildlife to the landscapes where it belongs.

One of the zoo’s most remarkable projects centers on a small amphibian few people outside Israel have ever heard of—the Hula painted frog.

For decades, the species was believed extinct.

Ben-Ami remembers leading visitors through the zoo years ago and explaining that the frog had disappeared forever.

“I used to sit down and tell people, ‘Oh, you know this frog… it got extinct already in the ’50s. So basically we lost this species.'”

Then, in 2011, everything changed.

“One day they discovered it,” he said.

“That was a huge day. It’s like they would discover brown bears in California all of a sudden after years that they were away.”

When conflict threatened the Hula Valley, a group of approximately 20 frogs was relocated to the Jerusalem Biblical Zoo for safekeeping. The challenge facing zoo staff went far beyond simply caring for them. Because the species had effectively disappeared for decades, researchers knew remarkably little about its biology.

“We didn’t know anything about this animal. We didn’t know how big it should be. We didn’t know when they can start breeding. We didn’t know what they prefer to eat.”

The uncertainty only made the achievement more significant.

“We actually managed to breed them,” he said.

“We were the first in the world to breed this animal, and we are going to release them back into the wild.”

The same restoration philosophy extends into the skies above Israel.

Griffon vultures, among the region’s most important scavengers, continue to face enormous challenges from poisoning and illegal shooting in parts of the Middle East. To strengthen the population, the zoo has partnered with wildlife authorities to receive birds from Spain and other countries, conduct health evaluations behind the scenes and prepare them for release into the wild.

Griffon vulture (Photo courtesy Jerusalem Biblical Zoo)

The zoo has also worked to restore Eurasian otters, another species whose numbers have declined dramatically as wetlands disappeared and waterways changed. Although that project has encountered challenges, it reflects the same long-term commitment that defines every restoration effort—careful planning, scientific collaboration and the patience to continue even when success does not come quickly.

Taken together, these projects reveal an institution that views conservation not as a single achievement but as an ongoing responsibility.

Looking Beyond Today’s Successes

Even after decades of conservation victories, Ben-Ami is already looking toward what comes next.

Among his greatest hopes is expanding regional cooperation to restore species whose historic ranges extend far beyond modern political boundaries.

“My dream is the Arabian leopard,” he said.

“My goal… is to help have some kind of connection to help this very unique animal.”

Ben-Ami believes recent regional cooperation, including the opportunities created by the Abraham Accords, could eventually allow conservationists to work more closely across borders to protect and restore species that have always ignored political boundaries. That vision, he believes, is larger than any single institution or nation—it is about preserving a shared natural heritage for future generations.

Most people are not aware that there is a leopard species indigenous to the Middle East. (Public Domain Photo)

“This is the vision of a new Middle East,” Ben-Ami said.

“That’s how it should look—helping each other to bring animals back into the wild.”

Whether that vision becomes reality remains to be seen.

What cannot be questioned is what has already been accomplished.

A species once believed extinct now once again walks the hills of Israel.

An amphibian thought lost to history has been bred for the first time and is returning to its native wetlands.

Griffon vultures continue to soar because dedicated conservationists refused to give up.

Each project stands on its own, but together they tell a larger story—not simply about saving wildlife, but about restoring pieces of a natural world that many assumed were gone forever.

The Long Road Back

Earlier this year, the Persian fallow deer had to wait.

The delay was frustrating, but it also underscored an important truth. Wildlife restoration is rarely a straight path. It is shaped by unexpected obstacles, changing conditions and decisions that place long-term success ahead of short-term progress.

That lesson extends far beyond Israel.

Every successful conservation project from red wolves released in North Carolina to wood ducks restored along the Eastern seaboard has demanded extraordinary patience. The Persian fallow deer belongs among those great conservation stories, not simply because a species survived, but because generations of people refused to let its story end.

Red wolf. (Photo by Chester Moore)

The Jerusalem Biblical Zoo has become one of the world’s leading examples of that commitment.

Its work demonstrates that conservation is about more than protecting what remains. At its best, it is about restoring what has been lost and ensuring future generations inherit landscapes that are richer, healthier and more complete than the ones we found.

For the Persian fallow deer, that journey continues with every new fawn born in the wild, every carefully planned release and every scientist, veterinarian and wildlife professional who believes restoration is worth the effort.

A Persian fallow deer in the wild in Israel. (Photo courtesy Jerusalem Biblical Zoo)

The Persian fallow deer is no longer simply a survivor remembered in history or Scripture. It is once again part of Israel’s living landscape, raising young in the wild and reclaiming habitat where it disappeared centuries ago. That alone makes it one of the great wildlife restoration stories of our time.

For Dr. Ben-Ami and the team at the Jerusalem Biblical Zoo, however, the story has never been just about one deer. It is about believing that what has been lost is not always lost forever. Whether restoring griffon vultures to the skies, breeding a frog once believed extinct or returning Persian fallow deer to the forests, each project begins with the same conviction that careful stewardship, perseverance and hope can change the future.

Perhaps that’s why this story resonates far beyond the boundaries of a wildlife reserve or a zoological park. Throughout Scripture, we encounter a Creator who delights in life, who entrusts humanity with the care of creation and who specializes in restoration. The work taking place at the Jerusalem Biblical Zoo offers a glimpse of that calling lived out in a tangible way through decades of patient, faithful work. One animal. One release. One generation at a time.

Today, the Persian fallow deer once again walks the hills of the Holy Land.

Chester Moore

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The Screwworm Map Everyone Should See

As the New World screwworm continues its push northward in Texas, wildlife professionals, livestock producers, hunters and conservationists are understandably focused on where it might show up next. No one knows exactly how far this outbreak could spread, and predicting that would be irresponsible. But history gives us something valuable—a look at where this devastating parasite has gone before.

One of the most fascinating resources I’ve come across is a historical map published by Oklahoma State University Extension showing the migration of New World screwworm during the major 1951 outbreak. The map doesn’t depict today’s outbreak or attempt to forecast tomorrow’s. Instead, it illustrates where screwworms spread during that historic event, where they survived the winter of 1951-1952 and where they commonly overwintered during average years before eradication.

Looking at it today is impossible to ignore.

The light blue portion of the map covers a remarkable area of the southern United States, stretching from Southern California across Arizona, New Mexico and Texas before reaching into Oklahoma, Arkansas and parts of the Gulf Coast. In other words, history shows that under favorable conditions, screwworms were capable of expanding across a huge portion of the country. The darker shades represent areas where the flies actually survived the winter, allowing populations to persist into the following year without having to migrate north again.

That doesn’t mean those same areas will become infested in 2026. Weather patterns, surveillance efforts, livestock management and, most importantly, the sterile insect technique have dramatically changed the equation since the 1950s. Still, if we’re talking about a cone of possibility, this map deserves serious attention because it represents places that have historically supported screwworm populations.

As someone who has spent much of this year reporting on the screwworm situation, I immediately began thinking beyond livestock. Cattle understandably receive much of the attention because of the enormous economic consequences of an outbreak, but wildlife has just as much at stake. White-tailed deer, mule deer, desert bighorn sheep, elk, pronghorn and countless other mammals can all become hosts if they have an untreated wound.

It can impact any warm-blooded animal.

That is one reason wildlife agencies have become deeply involved in monitoring the current situation. A widespread screwworm outbreak wouldn’t simply affect agriculture. It could reshape wildlife management across large portions of the southern United States and northern Mexico.

Check out out interview about screwworm with legendary whitetail biologist Larry Weishuhn.

One of the encouraging aspects of this situation is that we are not fighting an unknown enemy. The United States successfully eradicated New World screwworm decades ago through one of the greatest insect control programs ever undertaken. Today’s response benefits from modern diagnostics, coordinated surveillance, sterile fly production, interstate cooperation and a wealth of scientific knowledge that simply didn’t exist during the 1951 outbreak.

Even so, history has value because it reminds us what this insect is capable of when conditions are favorable.

Too often, people view historical maps like this as either predictions or relics. They’re really neither. They’re reminders. They remind us why vigilance matters, why containment efforts deserve public support and why wildlife professionals, ranchers and government agencies are taking this outbreak so seriously.

When I look at this map, I don’t see a forecast.

I see a warning from history.

The areas shown here aren’t places that will necessarily be impacted in the months ahead. They are places that history tells us could be impacted if screwworm were ever allowed to gain the upper hand again.

Hopefully, we never allow that to happen.

Chester Moore

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The Buffalo That Almost Got Me: Why Yellowstone’s Latest Bison Attack Hit Close to Home

The recent Yellowstone National Park bison attack that left a 65-year-old visitor with a femur broken in four places after being tossed into the air has captured national attention. According to reports, the man and his grandson were not intentionally harassing the animal, a reminder that while many wildlife incidents result from people getting far too close, nature doesn’t always follow our expectations.

That story immediately took me back to one of the most intense wildlife encounters I’ve ever experienced.

Photo by Chester Moore

Ironically, the huge bull bison in my recent Lamar Valley photograph was the very same animal from that encounter. Seeing him again brought back memories that have stayed with me ever since.

One of the biggest misconceptions surrounding wildlife attacks is that every victim must have done something foolish. Certainly, many people ignore common sense around Yellowstone’s wildlife. Every year visitors crowd bison for selfies, approach calves, or underestimate just how fast these massive animals can move.

But the outdoors is still wild.

Sometimes you can do nearly everything right and still find yourself in a dangerous situation. Wild animals have minds of their own, especially during the rut, when mature bull bison can become extremely aggressive toward rivals and anything else they perceive as a threat.

My encounter was a reminder that no amount of outdoor experience should ever replace humility.

Here’s what happened.


As the sun rose over the Lamar Valley in Yellowstone National Park, the silhouettes of American buffalo (bison) dotted the horizon.

Truly wild bison are a rare commodity, and seeing them in person is a powerful experience when you consider they were nearly driven to extinction just over a century ago.

While slowly driving through this incredible setting, a pair of beautiful pronghorn caught my attention.

I pulled over to take a few photos.

Another gentleman had stopped to do the same, and as we adjusted our camera lenses, his wife suddenly shouted from their truck.

“Bison!”

This was the mad bison! I came close to being a victim of bison attack that day. (Photo by Chester Moore)

Turning around, we found ourselves nearly eye to eye with a massive bull bison.

And he looked angry.

Really angry.

The whites of his eyes showed as he grunted from only about 15 feet away. At that distance, we were roughly half a second away from 1,500 pounds of fury.

We slowly and calmly backed away.

Thankfully, a couple of other bison crossed the road and caught his attention.

He immediately charged one of them, slamming into another mature bull. The younger animal fought back briefly before deciding retreat was the wiser option.

The big bull then rolled violently in the dirt, grunted, pawed the ground and bucked like a rodeo bronc.

Yes, this was the same bison that had quietly walked up behind us only moments earlier.

It was a powerful reminder of just how quickly these animals can change from seemingly calm to explosively aggressive.

Bison injure more people in Yellowstone than any other animal.

Many visitors look at them like oversized cattle grazing peacefully in a pasture because they’re accustomed to seeing people in the park.

That isn’t docility.

That’s confidence.

There’s a tremendous difference.

I understood the danger before this encounter. In fact, later on the trip I passed up what looked like an outstanding fishing hole in Lamar Valley because it was surrounded by large bulls, cows and calves.

Being caught between a mother bison, her calf and a trout stream is a terrible idea.

I found another place to fish.

The trout cooperated just fine.

As I sat later reflecting on the trip, I realized Yellowstone had once again offered more than beautiful scenery and wildlife photography. It had provided perspective.

Sometimes only time spent in truly wild places can do that.

This encounter also reinforced something I try to communicate through my writing and speaking: respect wildlife, keep your distance, and never assume an animal’s behavior will remain predictable simply because it has tolerated people before.

Wild places deserve our admiration—but they also deserve our respect.

I’m just thankful I’m writing about this encounter instead of having someone else write the headline for me.

“Wildlife Journalist Suffers Bison Attack” is one headline I hope never to read.

Chester Moore

Chester Moore

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Lamar Valley: The Greatest Wildlife Watching Destination in the Lower 48?

I’ve spent a lot of time pursuing wildlife stories across North America.

From alligators in Louisiana swamps to desert bighorn sheep in the Southwest, from the marshes of the Texas coast to the high country of the Rocky Mountains, I’ve been blessed to witness some incredible things. I’ve spent years researching and documenting great white sharks, including encounters along the Pacific Coast and off Cape Cod. I’ve photographed wildlife in places ranging from remote mountain ranges to coastal ecosystems and have dedicated much of my life to telling the stories of wild animals and the people who care about them.

But if someone asked me where I’ve had the highest concentration of memorable wildlife encounters in the Lower 48, my answer would come without hesitation.

This bison almost trampled me while I was focused on something moving in the distance in the Lamar Valley.

Lamar Valley in Yellowstone National Park.

Known by many as the “Serengeti of North America,” Lamar Valley is located in Yellowstone’s northeast corner and follows the Lamar River through a vast landscape of grasslands, sagebrush flats, river bottoms, and mountain slopes. What makes it unique isn’t just the wildlife—it’s the scale.

Most people hear the word “valley” and imagine a relatively small area. Lamar Valley is anything but small. The broader Lamar wildlife corridor stretches roughly 29 miles from the Tower area toward Yellowstone’s Northeast Entrance. The valley itself forms one of the largest open wildlife-viewing landscapes in Yellowstone, creating opportunities to observe wildlife behavior on a scale rarely found anywhere else in the continental United States.

Nothing cuter than a “red dog” or baby bison.

Unlike many wildlife destinations where animals disappear into dense forests, Lamar’s open terrain allows visitors to watch wildlife across tremendous distances. It is one of the few places left in America where you can sit in one location and potentially observe multiple iconic wildlife species during a single morning.

The valley’s history is deeply connected to Yellowstone itself. Long before the creation of Yellowstone National Park in 1872, Native American tribes traveled through and hunted the region. Later came mountain men, trappers, explorers, and early tourists. As wildlife populations declined across much of the West, Yellowstone became one of the last great refuges for many species.

Look close and you will see this badger that keep ducking in and out of cover near us in the Lamar Valley a few years ago.

Today, Lamar Valley remains one of the most important wildlife strongholds in North America.

I’ve seen that firsthand.

One of the most incredible wildlife behaviors I’ve ever witnessed happened there and involved an animal many Yellowstone visitors overlook.

Pronghorns.

I once watched two bucks engaged in a fierce rutting battle. Their horns clashed repeatedly as they pushed, twisted, and maneuvered against one another for dominance. I watched them for more than an hour before finally leaving.

Later, I returned.

They were still fighting.

A few hours after that, I came back again.

They were still at it.

More than three hours after I first saw them, those two animals were still locked in one of the most intense wildlife contests I’ve ever witnessed. It remains one of the most impressive displays of endurance and determination I have ever seen in the wild.

Lamar Valley is also famous for wolves.

The controversial reintroduction of wolves into Yellowstone in 1995 remains a topic of debate among wildlife managers, ranchers, hunters, and conservationists. Regardless of where someone stands on the issue, wolves have become one of the valley’s signature species.

During one of my visits, I was fortunate enough to photograph wolves in Lamar Valley. Seeing a wild wolf moving through that landscape is certainly an unforgettable experience.

I’ve also seen grizzly bears there, another species that immediately commands attention whenever it appears. Watching a grizzly move through the valley reminds you quickly that Yellowstone remains one of the last truly wild places in America.

Then there are the bison.

Every visit seems to include unforgettable encounters with these iconic animals. One of my favorite sights is seeing the young calves that appear each spring. Their reddish coloration has earned them the nickname “red dogs,” and watching them run, play, and interact with the herd against the backdrop of Lamar Valley is one of Yellowstone’s classic wildlife experiences.

I’ve also seen bighorn sheep in the area, another species that never fails to impress. Their presence only adds to the remarkable diversity of wildlife found within the valley and surrounding mountains.

Lamar Valley has also become an important part of the outreach work we do through Higher Calling Wildlife.

Over the years, we’ve brought young people from our programs into Yellowstone and introduced them to wildlife on a scale many never imagined possible. Watching a child see wild bison, bighorn sheep, or other iconic animals for the first time is every bit as rewarding as the wildlife encounters themselves.

Lamar Valley has also been the setting for some memorable conservation media projects. During one visit, I had the opportunity to film there with my friend Paul Fiesinski of Aptitude Outdoors. Paul does outstanding work highlighting wildlife, conservation, and outdoor adventure, and Lamar Valley provided the perfect backdrop for capturing the kind of authentic wildlife experiences that make Yellowstone so special.

Whether photographing wildlife, filming conservation stories, or mentoring young people through Higher Calling Wildlife, Lamar Valley has repeatedly proven itself to be one of the most inspiring places I’ve ever visited.

Those experiences are a major reason the valley means so much to me.

Wildlife can change lives.

I’ve watched young people develop a passion for conservation after seeing Yellowstone wildlife. I’ve seen photography inspire confidence and purpose. I’ve watched kids who had rarely ventured beyond their hometown suddenly realize there is a much bigger world waiting to be explored.

Lamar Valley has played a role in many of those moments.

But as incredible as wolves, grizzlies, bison, and bighorn sheep are, my favorite Lamar Valley wildlife encounter involved a much smaller animal.

A badger.

For many wildlife enthusiasts, spotting a badger is actually harder than seeing a wolf or a bear. They are secretive, often active during low-light periods, and surprisingly easy to miss.

One day in Lamar Valley, I was fortunate enough to watch one.

There was no crowd gathered around it. No roadside traffic jam. No line of photographers stretching down the highway.

Just a badger going about its business.

To this day, it remains one of my favorite Yellowstone wildlife memories.

Which brings me back to the question: Is there anywhere else in the Lower 48 quite like Lamar Valley?

There are certainly great wildlife destinations. Hayden Valley elsewhere in Yellowstone is outstanding. Grand Teton National Park offers incredible opportunities. Montana’s Rocky Mountain Front is spectacular. The National Elk Refuge near Jackson is world-famous.

But none combine wildlife diversity, visibility, accessibility, and sheer scale quite like Lamar Valley.

In a single day, visitors might see bison, pronghorns, bighorn sheep, grizzly bears, black bears, wolves, coyotes, foxes, badgers, elk, and countless other species.

There may be places that rival Lamar Valley for a particular animal.

But when it comes to the overall wildlife experience, I don’t think there’s another place quite like it in the Lower 48.

Every time I visit Yellowstone, I find myself drawn back there.

Maybe it’s the possibility of seeing a grizzly around the next bend.

Maybe it’s the chance of spotting another badger.

Maybe it’s remembering the kids we’ve brought there through Higher Calling Wildlife and the impact those experiences had on their lives.

Whatever the reason, Lamar Valley has given me more unforgettable wildlife encounters than any place I’ve visited in the continental United States.

And that’s saying something.

Chester Moore

Follow Chester Moore and Higher Calling Wildlife® on the following social media platforms

To support the efforts of Higher Calling Wildlife® click here.

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Email Chester at chester@chestermoore.com.

Bears, Elk & Tennessee

In early August, we’ll be traveling to Tennessee for a special outreach focused on encouraging children through wildlife, conservation, and inspiration.

As part of this mission, we’ll be giving gift bags to kids in rural communities—simple gifts that can inspire a lifelong love of God’s creation while reminding them that they are seen, valued, and loved.

The first time we gave gifts in the Smoky Mountains was on the North Carolina side and we met this awesome family and gave them cool gift packages while viewing elk.

We’re asking for your help. And we need it because funds are pretty low and we really feel led to put this project together. You have been generous in the past and I believe we can get these items ordered through our readers and by extension you will be blessing these kids and aiming them toward a love of wildlife.

Screenshot

We’ve created an Amazon Wish List filled with affordable items that will go directly into these gift bags. The list includes Tennessee wildlife field guides, plush black bears, wildlife-themed bracelets, educational items, and other small gifts designed to encourage young nature lovers.

These may seem like small things, but we’ve learned over the years that a field guide can ignite a passion for wildlife, a stuffed animal can bring comfort to a child facing challenges, and a simple gift can open the door to conversations that have a lasting impact.

If you’d like to be part of this mission, simply choose one or more items from our Amazon Wish List. They’ll be shipped directly to us so we can prepare the gift bags before we head to Tennessee.

Our Tennessee Mission Wish List (Link Below)

https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/1OXAWSH6A2WZT?ref_=wl_share

Every purchase, no matter how small, helps us bless another child.

Thank you for partnering with us through Higher Calling Wildlife as we share hope, encourage a love for God’s creation, and invest in the next generation of wildlife conservationists.

We can’t wait to share stories and photos from this Tennessee mission when we return!

Chester Moore

Follow Chester Moore and Higher Calling Wildlife® on the following social media platforms

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A Look At Louisiana’s Biodiversity

Louisiana, my home state, is home to an incredible variety of ecosystems, making it one of the most biologically diverse states in the United States.

From sprawling coastal marshes and cypress swamps to pine forests, hardwood bottomlands, and native prairies, each habitat supports its own unique community of plants, animals, fungi, and insects. Together, these ecosystems create a rich natural heritage that provides countless benefits for both wildlife and people.

One of the things I’ve always appreciated about Louisiana is how much wildlife can be found almost anywhere you go.

The state’s low-lying marshlands and bayous are famous for being home to the American alligator (Alligator mississippiensis), the official state reptile. Often seen basking along muddy banks or quietly gliding through the water, alligators play an important role as top predators that help keep wetland ecosystems balanced. Sharing these waters is another fascinating reptile, the alligator snapping turtle (Macrochelys temminckii), the largest freshwater turtle in North America.

Photo by Chester Moore

With its massive head, powerful jaws, and remarkable camouflage, this ancient-looking turtle is one of Louisiana’s most impressive native species.

Another common wetland resident is the nutria (Myocastor coypus), a large semiaquatic rodent originally introduced from South America. While nutria are now common throughout the state’s wetlands, they can also cause significant damage to marsh vegetation by feeding on plant roots.

Public domain photo

Louisiana’s coastal wetlands include an extensive network of marshes, swamps, bayous, estuaries, and shallow coastal waters.

These habitats support an incredible diversity of fish, reptiles, amphibians, birds, mammals, and invertebrates. Because coastal wetlands can contain both freshwater and saltwater, they are often called “transitional ecosystems.”

This mix of water types allows species from different environments to thrive in the same region. Migratory birds use these wetlands as critical resting and feeding areas, while fish, shrimp, oysters, and crabs depend on them as nursery grounds during important stages of their life cycles.

Beyond the wetlands, Louisiana also contains large areas of pine forests and hardwood forests that provide habitat for white-tailed deer, wild turkeys, black bears, bobcats, foxes, squirrels, and countless songbirds. Native prairies, though much less common today than they once were, support colorful wildflowers, butterflies, bees, and other important pollinators.

Public domain photo

Every ecosystem contributes to the overall health of Louisiana’s environment by supporting biodiversity and maintaining natural ecological processes.

These natural habitats are not only important for wildlife but also for people. Louisiana’s wetlands support valuable commercial fisheries that produce shrimp, oysters, crabs, and many species of fish enjoyed around the world.

The state’s forests provide timber and outdoor recreation opportunities, while marshes and bayous attract people who enjoy kayaking, boating, birdwatching, hunting, fishing, and wildlife photography. Healthy ecosystems also improve water quality by filtering pollutants and trapping sediment before it reaches larger rivers and the Gulf.

A wil turkey flies over a pond after being captured and radio collared by the Louisiana Department of Wildlife & Fisheries (Photo by Chester Moore)

Perhaps one of the most important services Louisiana’s wetlands provide is protecting communities from severe weather. Wetlands help absorb floodwaters, reduce storm surge, and slow wind-driven waves during hurricanes.

Although they cannot stop powerful storms, healthy coastal marshes act as natural buffers that reduce damage to inland communities. This makes protecting and restoring wetlands an important part of Louisiana’s future.

Growing up in and spending time exploring my home state has given me a deep appreciation for these incredible places and the wildlife that depends on them. Louisiana’s diverse ecosystems are among its greatest treasures.

Redfish are an important part of Louisiana coastal ecosystems, (Photo by Chester Moore)

They provide habitat for thousands of species while supporting the state’s economy, outdoor traditions, and unique way of life. By conserving wetlands, forests, prairies, and other natural habitats, we can ensure that future generations will continue to experience the amazing natural beauty that makes Louisiana so special.

Reannah Hollaway

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The Next Wild Wish Begins With a Shark

One of the greatest blessings of the Wild Wishes® program is watching a child experience something they never thought possible.

We’ve watched fear turn into excitement.

We’ve seen children battling critical illness smile again.

We’ve watched kids who have experienced unimaginable loss discover hope through God’s incredible creation.

Those moments are why we do what we do.

Today, we’re asking for your help with two important needs that will help us continue reaching children through wildlife, conservation, and the love of Christ.

Help Us Grant a Shark Wish

We’re currently raising $750 to grant the Wild Wish of an incredible young girl whose greatest dream is to have a close encounter with sharks.

If you’ve followed Higher Calling Wildlife very long, you know sharks have become a special part of our ministry. Through documentaries, conservation work, educational programs, and countless articles, we’ve worked to replace fear with understanding while showing people just how remarkable these misunderstood animals really are.

Chester granting a shark cage dive encounter with Juno and her Dad at the Denver Aquarium.

Now we have the opportunity to give one young girl an experience she’ll never forget.

The funds will help cover travel, lodging, admission, meals, and other expenses needed to make this Wild Wishes® encounter a reality for her and her family.

Our goal is simple: raise $750 and make this dream come true and also to help us send some shark gift packages out to a few kids as well.

If you’d like to help, you can give directly to the Shark Wishes Fund here:

🦈 Help Grant a Shark Wish

https://kingdomzoo.donortools.com/my/funds/85891-Shark-Wishes-Fund

Help Us Capture More Stories

We’re also raising $250 to purchase a new action camera for the Wild Wishes program.

As we continue to grow, video has become one of the most effective ways we can reach children and families. Every Wild Wish, every expedition, every conservation project, and every outdoor adventure has the potential to inspire thousands more people when we can share those moments well.

Whether we’re filming a child seeing a shark for the first time, photographing bighorn sheep in the Rockies, exploring mountain streams with young conservationists, or documenting wildlife encounters across Texas and beyond, quality footage allows us to preserve those memories and tell stories that encourage others to get involved.

Just as importantly, these videos help us introduce new families to the Wild Wishes program, inspire support for future wishes, and encourage more young people to discover God’s creation. We believe media will become an increasingly important part of our ministry moving forward, allowing us to reach far more children than we ever could through in-person events alone.

Our goal is to raise $250 to put a new action camera into the field so we can continue telling these stories with excellence.

📹 Help Us Get a New Camera for Wild Wishes

https://kingdomzoo.donortools.com/my/funds/80866-Wild-Wishes-Fund

Every Gift Makes a Difference

Together, these two needs total just $1,000.

  • $750 will help grant a life-changing shark encounter for a deserving young girl.
  • $250 will help us purchase a new action camera to document more Wild Wishes experiences and wildlife expeditions, allowing us to share those stories with even more children and families.

No gift is too small. Whether you can give $10, $25, $50, or more, every contribution helps us move closer to these goals.

Most of all, thank you for believing in the mission of Higher Calling Wildlife. Thank you for believing that God’s creation can open hearts, restore hope, and change lives. And thank you for helping us continue creating unforgettable experiences for children while sharing those stories with the world.

Together, we can grant another Wild Wish and inspire many more to come.

Chester Moore

Follow Chester Moore and Higher Calling Wildlife® on the following social media platforms

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Email Chester at chester@chestermoore.com.

Trading the Xbox for a Tackle Box

It was one of the few times my dad didn’t want to take me fishing.

Every morning on the way to school, Mom and I passed a little roadside gully. It wasn’t much to look at. The water was stained, the banks were choked with weeds and brush, and from the road it looked more like a drainage ditch than a place anyone would ever fish. But every time we drove past it, I wondered what might be living beneath that muddy surface.

I begged Dad to take me.

He wasn’t convinced there could be much there, but eventually he gave in. It didn’t take long before my red, white and blue bobber disappeared beneath the surface. A few moments later I was holding a spotted gar nearly two feet long. To most people it would have been an odd-looking fish from an insignificant little ditch. To me, it was the beginning of a lifelong adventure.

Looking back, that fish was only part of what I caught that day. I caught a sense of wonder that has stayed with me ever since.

Tommy is all smiles with this nice largemouth!

That roadside gully wasn’t the only place where I discovered the outdoors. There were ponds tucked behind country roads, little creeks winding through the woods, stock tanks on ranches, neighborhood lakes and quiet stretches of shoreline where bluegills, bass, catfish and crappie all offered the possibility of another adventure. I have learned that nearly every lifelong angler has one of those places—a spot that wasn’t famous or expensive, but one that became unforgettable because it was where everything began.

Faith put on her pink cowboy hat to fish the same gully her Dad fished as a kid.

Those humble waters have launched countless conservationists, wildlife photographers, fisheries biologists, game wardens and outdoor communicators. They have introduced generations of children to God’s incredible creation in a way few other experiences can.

That is more important today than ever before.

Children are growing up surrounded by screens. Social media competes for every spare moment, offering a constant stream of entertainment, comparison and unrealistic expectations. It can become a place where every photo is filtered, every accomplishment is measured against someone else’s highlight reel, and too many young people feel as though they’re constantly being evaluated.

Perri caught a beast of a bass!

Fishing offers a welcome escape from all of that. Out on the water, no one is judging a child by the clothes they’re wearing, the number of followers they have or whether they fit someone else’s idea of success. Nature doesn’t mock them, criticize them or ask them to live up to impossible standards. A farm pond doesn’t care how popular they are at school. A winding creek doesn’t compare them to someone else. The fish certainly don’t care. Those quiet places simply invite them to slow down, breathe deeply and enjoy the world God created.

Instead of scrolling through someone else’s adventures, they begin creating their own. They notice dragonflies hovering over lily pads, turtles slipping quietly from sun-bleached logs, and a kingfisher rattling across the water. They begin asking questions about the fish beneath the surface, the birds overhead and the tracks pressed into the muddy bank. Before long, curiosity turns into appreciation, and appreciation often becomes stewardship.

Sometimes the coolest catch isn’t even a fish. Turtles put big smiles on kid’s faces too!

Scripture tells us that “the heavens declare the glory of God.” I’ve found that His handiwork is just as evident beside a farm pond or winding creek as it is atop a mountain.

Some of life’s greatest lessons come during quiet moments spent outdoors, where there are few distractions and plenty of opportunities to listen—not only to the sounds of nature, but to one another.

Some of the best conversations between parents and children happen while waiting for a bobber to disappear beneath the surface. Without televisions, notifications or endless interruptions, there is time to laugh, tell stories, answer questions and simply enjoy being together. Years later, children may not remember every fish they caught, but they almost always remember who was standing beside them. Those shared experiences build relationships in ways that are difficult to duplicate anywhere else.

One of the greatest things about introducing kids to fishing is that it doesn’t have to be complicated. In fact, the simpler it is, the better. You don’t need a high-dollar bass boat or tackle boxes filled with specialized lures. A neighborhood pond, a farm pond with permission, a quiet creek, a stock tank or a public fishing pier can be the perfect classroom.

Start with simple equipment. A light spinning outfit or even a cane pole, a small hook beneath a bobber and a container of earthworms will catch bluegills almost anywhere they swim. Those colorful little fish are ideal for youngsters because they bite readily, fight hard for their size and keep children engaged. Every bobber twitch builds anticipation, and every fish feels like a trophy. Once a child catches a few bluegills, you can introduce them to bass, catfish, crappie or whatever species swims in your local waters. The important thing isn’t chasing trophy fish. It’s creating positive experiences that make them want to come back.

Keep those first trips short and fun. An hour or two of steady action is usually far better than spending an entire day waiting on a bite. Let children explore the shoreline. Turn over a rock and see if there are crawfish hiding underneath. Point out turtles, frogs, butterflies and birds. Watch an osprey dive for a fish or listen to a chorus of tree frogs as evening settles in. If the fish stop biting, skip rocks or simply sit together and enjoy the quiet. Remember that the trip is about much more than filling a stringer.

Those outings also become natural opportunities to teach conservation. Children quickly learn why we pick up litter instead of walking past it, why we respect private property, why we handle fish carefully and why clean water matters. Long before they understand habitat management or fisheries biology, they begin to understand stewardship. They learn that God’s creation is a gift and that caring for it is both a privilege and a responsibility.

Over the years, I have been blessed to fish some incredible places, from remote rivers and coastal marshes to mountain lakes and sprawling reservoirs. Those destinations are unforgettable, but they all trace back to simple beginnings. They trace back to overlooked waters that many people passed without a second glance. They trace back to adults who were willing to invest a little time in a curious kid with a fishing rod.

The author has caught his dream fish like this Wels catfish in Spain in 2005 but he still loves to fish little ponds, streams and gullies.

As parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and mentors, we spend a lot of time wondering how to prepare children for the future. We worry about the influences they’ll face and the pressures they’ll encounter. One of the greatest gifts we can give them is surprisingly simple. Hand them a fishing rod and take them somewhere close to home. It might be a forgotten creek, a farm pond, a cattle tank, a city park lake or a quiet stretch of river. The destination matters far less than the opportunity to spend time together outdoors.

They may remember the fish they caught, and they’ll certainly remember the one that got away. More importantly, they’ll remember the person who took them there. They’ll remember laughing over tangled fishing line, celebrating a hand-sized bluegill as though it were a state record and sitting quietly as the sun settled behind the trees.

In a world that constantly demands more of our children, fishing reminds them that they are enough. It gives them a place where they can simply be kids, surrounded by the beauty of God’s creation and the people who love them most.

And somewhere along the way, between the first cast and the last ripple on the water, they’ll discover that the greatest thing they brought home wasn’t a fish at all. It was a deeper appreciation for the Creator, His creation and the priceless gift of time spent together.

Chester Moore

Follow Chester Moore and Higher Calling Wildlife® on the following social media platforms

To support the efforts of Higher Calling Wildlife® click here.

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Email Chester at chester@chestermoore.com.

In the Shadow of the Ghost Wolves

As storm clouds loomed over the coastal prairie and low, rumbling thunder echoed in the distance, I quickened my pace.

Having placed a motion-sensing camera near a small, brackish marsh, there were still several hundred yards left to change film and perhaps validate sighting reports for the area.

After rounding a corner of the trail, I stopped for a second to adjust the hood of my jacket when I saw it.

Lying in the broad open was what appeared to be a wolf. A large wolf.

The red wolf.

Its coat was deep red and the head showed a prominent sagittal crest, broad snout, highlighted by large ears. Its tail was long but not too bushy and it had a white tip that matched the lining on the front of its legs.

Fewer than 40 yards separated us yet I wanted to move in closer. Slowly walking toward the animal without looking directly in its eyes, I closed the distance another 10 yards before it showed any signs of distress. Then it suddenly jumped to its feet and retreated with a gait only found in wolves.

Validation would not come from the lens of the camera but with my own two eyes in what was the most unique wildlife encounter of my life. A reader of my newspaper column tipped me off to the wolves in this area and following up had paid off in a magnificent way, but this encounter would not be the end of the story.

What was it that I saw?

Canis rufus, the red wolf, was common in the southeastern United States from the Carolinas to central Texas. However, popular theory has it predator control programs combined with habitat loss in certain areas reduced the population and by the 1970s, United States Fish and Wildlife Service officials declared the only remaining red wolves were in eastern Texas and southwestern Louisiana.

A newspaper clipping from 1986 from near the location the author had the encounter.

The common thinking was the population threatened itself by interbreeding with Canis latrans and Canis familiaris (domestic dog). In response to this, Service officials made Canis rufus the first-ever mammal put on the endangered species list and started a capture program in 1973 to find the last remaining “genetically pure” red wolves and found a captive breeding program. In 1980, Service officials considered the red wolf extinct in the wild and labeled only 14 of the hundreds of animals they caught as pure red wolves. These 14 specimens are the basis for all of the red wolves in the federal recovery program.

Research that is more recent suggests the red wolf is a fertile hybrid of the coyote and gray wolf. DNA analysis of 77 canids captured for the captive breeding program from 1973-1976 (including some of the first animals in the captive breeding program) revealed genotypes found only in southern coyotes or gray wolves. In fact, they even showed a gray wolf characteristic associated with the Mexican gray wolf, another highly endangered canid.

Without question there are animals in Texas that look virtually exactly like the red wolves in the federal captive breeding program. Whether they are genetically the same remains open to debate, but there are clearly wild canines other than coyotes on the landscape. Many of these animals occur along the upper Texas coast and are geographically close to the so-called “ghost wolves” documented in the Galveston region. These Galveston-area canids attracted scientific attention after genetic studies revealed they carried significant red wolf ancestry despite living outside the federal recovery program.

The animals I have documented share many of the same morphological characteristics associated with red wolves, including larger body size, broad skulls, long legs, reddish coloration, large ears, white markings, and a distinctly wolf-like gait. Given their proximity to the Galveston ghost wolves and their remarkable physical similarity to recognized red wolves, it is reasonable to suspect these animals may also possess significant red wolf DNA. Only comprehensive genetic testing can answer that question definitively, but the evidence suggests these coastal canids may represent an important reservoir of red wolf ancestry. The popular term for them is “coywolves.”

You can go to my YouTube channel and see numerous videos on this topic including the one below.

A landowner called late one Friday evening and said he had been feeding coyotes on his property in hopes of killing them before he built a facility there. He feared the coyotes would cause problems around tenants’ dogs and cats, so he planned to eliminate them. The evening before he called me, he sat out with his rifle and watched as three wolves came up to the dog food he had put out to lure coyotes.

“I looked through my scope and immediately noticed them as red wolves because of the articles I had seen in the paper and the fact I have seen lots of coyotes and knew this was no coyote,” he said.

I rushed over to the spot, set out my Trophy View motion-sensing video camera and that evening captured nearly 30 minutes of video of a beautiful red wolf eating dog food. The video is so long because the wolf can hear the camera running but cannot quite place the sound, so it takes a bite, runs off, looks around and takes another bite. The video is quite humorous to watch and shows something that is definitely not a pure coyote.

After the beautiful animal at the beginning of this story ran off, I walked toward one of my motion-sensing cameras and heard footsteps in the dry leaves behind me. When I turned around, I noticed the wolf I had just seen was following me. At a distance of only 10 yards, it showed no aggressive posturing but a general curiosity as to what I was doing in its habitat and perhaps more importantly how long I was going to stay.

As I locked eyes with it, I saw an untamed, majestic wildness that reminded me why I got into wildlife study to begin with. Then almost instantly, its eyes changed and a look of deep fear overcame it. It stared for a second, put down its ears and ran off into the brush.

I have pondered many times what that animal was thinking as we stared at one another and then another thought crossed my mind.

If a simple stare caused this proud creature to retreat into the brush, what could a growing human population starving for land to develop do to them? How many are there? Could some of these animals represent descendants of the same red wolf lineage once thought lost forever? These are questions I continually ponder.

At the end of the day, I say if it looks like a wolf and howls like a wolf, it is probably a wolf.

Or maybe, in this case, a wolf carrying the legacy of the red wolf.

Based on what we are learning from the Galveston ghost wolves and similar animals documented along the Texas coast, that possibility may be far greater than many ever imagined.

Chester Moore

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Email Chester at chester@chestermoore.com.

America 250: How a Nation Saved Its Wildlife

The gobbler stepped into a small opening just after sunrise.

For a few moments he stood there in the soft morning light, bronze feathers glowing as he moved through the grass. It was a scene repeated thousands of times across America every spring, so common that most people never stop to think about it.

A century ago, seeing a wild turkey in many parts of the United States would have been almost impossible.

A Rio Grande gobbler the author photographed in Kerr County, TX.

The same could be said for elk in numerous Western states. White-tailed deer across much of the country. Wood ducks in many wetlands. Bighorn sheep in numerous mountain ranges. Even iconic species such as the American bison stood on the edge of extinction.

Yet today, Americans routinely encounter wildlife in numbers that would have seemed unimaginable to many conservationists a hundred years ago.

An early Higher Calling Wildlife® expedition involved two of our kids releasing Eastern wild turkeys with the Texas Parks & Wildlife Department and National Wild Turkey Federation.

As our nation approaches its 250th anniversary, there will be plenty of discussion about military victories, political achievements, economic growth, and technological innovation. All of those deserve recognition.

But there is another uniquely American success story that belongs in that conversation.

The recovery of wildlife.

I have spent much of my life pursuing wildlife stories across North America. I’ve photographed bighorn sheep in the Rockies, alligators in Southern swamps, great white sharks off both the Pacific Coast and Cape Cod, and countless species in between. One thing has become clear through those experiences.

Groups like the Wild Sheep Foundation have been instrumental in the recovery of bighorn sheep. The author photographed this big ram near Estes Park, CO.

America is still a nation rich in wildlife.

That may seem like an obvious statement, but it is actually a remarkable achievement.

At the dawn of the twentieth century, the future looked very different.

Market hunting had devastated many species. Habitat loss was accelerating. Conservation laws were limited or nonexistent in many places. Wildlife was often viewed as an unlimited resource, and the consequences were becoming painfully clear.

American bison had been reduced from tens of millions to only a few hundred animals. Wild turkey populations had collapsed. White-tailed deer had disappeared from large portions of their historic range. Waterfowl populations were under severe pressure. Numerous fish species faced declining numbers.

Photo by Chester Moore

Many people believed America’s wildlife abundance was disappearing forever. Instead, something remarkable happened.

Americans decided to do something about it.

One of the most important figures in that movement was Theodore Roosevelt. Long before conservation became a mainstream topic, Roosevelt understood that wildlife required active stewardship. An avid hunter, naturalist, and outdoorsman, he recognized that healthy wildlife populations and healthy habitats were inseparable.

Roosevelt was joined by visionaries such as George Bird Grinnell, Gifford Pinchot, Aldo Leopold, and countless state wildlife professionals whose work helped establish modern conservation principles. Together they promoted a revolutionary idea: wildlife belongs to everyone and should be managed for future generations.

That philosophy eventually evolved into what became known as the North American Model of Wildlife Conservation.

The model is uniquely American in many ways. Wildlife is held in trust for the public. Science guides management decisions. Conservation funding is tied directly to those who use and enjoy natural resources. Citizens play an active role in conservation rather than simply observing it from the sidelines. I learned about this as a teenager through my interest not only in wildlife but because of being a hunter and angler.

Happy 4th of July from Chester and Faith Moore.

You see hunters and anglers became central to that effort.

Through license purchases, excise taxes on firearms, ammunition, fishing tackle, and boating equipment, generations of sportsmen and women have contributed billions of dollars toward wildlife management, fisheries conservation, habitat restoration, research, public access, and conservation education.

That contribution cannot be overstated.

But the story is bigger than hunters and anglers alone.

Wildlife biologists dedicated careers to restoring species. Landowners improved habitat. Conservation organizations protected critical landscapes. Volunteers planted trees, restored wetlands, removed invasive species, and supported countless projects. National parks, wildlife refuges, state parks, and public lands became anchors of conservation across the country.

Groups like the Coastal Conservation Association helped restored the redfish after the ravages of commercial harvest.

In many ways, America’s conservation success became a team effort involving millions of people from different backgrounds united by a belief that wildlife mattered.

The results speak for themselves.

White-tailed deer rebounded from historic lows to become one of North America’s most abundant large mammals. Wild turkeys returned to landscapes where they had been absent for generations. Elk populations expanded. Pronghorns recovered. Wood ducks became one of conservation’s greatest comeback stories.

Bighorn sheep, a species especially close to my heart, were restored to mountain ranges where they had disappeared. While challenges remain, there are countless places today where people can see wild sheep because conservationists refused to accept their loss as inevitable.

The same story can be told in America’s waters.

Anglers helped support conservation efforts that benefited striped bass, trout, red drum, largemouth bass, and countless other species. Habitat restoration projects improved rivers, lakes, marshes, and coastal ecosystems. Better science and management helped sustain fisheries that continue to provide recreation and economic benefits for millions of Americans.

And perhaps most importantly, these efforts benefited far more than game species.

When wetlands are restored for waterfowl, countless other birds, amphibians, reptiles, and mammals benefit. When habitat is protected for deer, elk, or bighorn sheep, entire ecosystems often improve. Conservation rarely helps only one species.

It strengthens the broader landscape.

What makes this story especially meaningful is that it reflects some of America’s best qualities.

Freedom.

Responsibility.

Volunteerism.

Innovation.

Stewardship.

Rather than separating people from wildlife, the American conservation model encourages participation. Citizens are not simply observers. They become stakeholders. They invest in wildlife through their time, money, expertise, and advocacy.

That approach is not perfect. Challenges remain. Habitat fragmentation, invasive species, development pressures, and emerging environmental concerns require ongoing attention.

Conservation is never finished.

But when viewed honestly, America’s record is extraordinary.

Few nations can point to wildlife recoveries on this scale while maintaining broad public access, private property rights, robust outdoor traditions, and strong citizen involvement. The abundance of wildlife many Americans enjoy today did not happen by accident.

It happened because generations of people cared enough to act.

The next time you hear a turkey gobble at dawn, watch a herd of elk move across a mountain meadow, see a redfish tailing in a coastal marsh, spot a bighorn sheep on a rocky slope, or simply notice a white-tailed deer stepping from the woods, remember that those moments represent something larger than a wildlife sighting.

They are evidence of one of the greatest conservation success stories in world history.

As America celebrates 250 years of independence, we should recognize that some of our most important achievements are not found in monuments, battlefields, or government buildings.

They are found in healthy rivers, thriving forests, productive wetlands, open prairies, and wild places where wildlife still flourishes.

The American conservation story is ultimately about more than animals.

It is about a nation that chose stewardship over surrender, responsibility over indifference, and hope over decline.

And that may be one of the most American stories of all.

Chester Moore

Follow Chester Moore and Higher Calling Wildlife® on the following social media platforms

To support the efforts of Higher Calling Wildlife® click here.

Subscribe to the Dark Outdoors podcast on all major podcasting platforms.

@thechestermoore on Instagram

Chester Moore’s YouTube.

Higher Calling Wildlife on Facebook

Email Chester at chester@chestermoore.com.