We can only adapt

We’ve all heard the talk about building a wall, locking our borders, and keeping them out. Let them in and the world as we know it will be forever changed.

They’ll damage property, threaten local residents and spread disease.

But then there’s always some liberal sob sister who asks, “Hey, can’t we all learn to live together?”

We certainly embraced plenty of immigrants in the past, ring-necked pheasants from Asia, partridge from Eastern Europe, brown trout from across the pond.

Times, however, are changing. Now we’re second-guessing ourselves. Russian olive trees, imported to give folks on the prairie a break from the wind, have fallen under the axe after falling out of favor with the feds. Brook trout, the tastiest salmonid in the state, are being poisoned to make room for native cutthroat. And wolves, which we once eliminated from the landscape and later returned, are doing so well we’re trying to kill them again.

Yellowstone National Park has become our Syria, unable to stem the tide of residents fleeing its borders.

Gov. Steve Bullock recently announced that bison from the park will be allowed to graze on 400 square miles of mostly public land north and west of Yellowstone. The move was lauded by wildlife advocates and decried by the livestock industry.

The governor’s move sure didn’t solve the problem. There are still too many bison in the park and 400 square miles of extra habitat won’t contain them. Butchering the excess and distributing the meat to American Indian tribes -- while a politically correct thing to do -- doesn’t sit well with the American public. All lives matter, you know, even those of edible species, so a home on the range is still being sought.

But a lot of people don’t want bison in their backyards. Especially those folks in eastern Montana with really big backyards.

Until buffalo discover a cure for cancer or open a taco bus, they’ll remain pariahs.

However, all things change. The day may come when, without Russian olives, the only shade on the prairie is provided by slow-moving bison herds. Ranchers will become nomads. Seeking an escape from an ever-hotter sun, they’ll follow the herds for the shade they provide. Smallmouth bass will replace cutthroat trout as the anglers’ fish of choice, and pheasants will be eliminated after it’s discovered they compete with sage grouse for habitat.

We can’t stop change. We can only adapt.

Or we can build that wall.

Parker Heinlein is at

[email protected]