In 1991 I met Jack Ewing while in Costa Rica researching articles on the emerging ecotourism industry. In 1972, Jack and his wife Diane came to the Pacific lowlands near Dominical to manage a cattle ranch and rice fields.
The Colorado natives found the ranching poor but they were enamored by the flora and fauna in five discrete ecosystems located on their Hacienda Baru. In the 1990s the Ewings bought a stake in the ranch and began to shut down agricultural operations. They planned to let the rice paddies and pastures regrow into native mangrove and cloud forest; to build a small eco-resort; and to train local people as guides through this rich environment full of toucans, monkeys and more.
I had a huge respect for this undertaking but was doubtful. In 1991, Hacienda Baru was a long way from anywhere over poor roads. The idea of ecotourism was new and unproven. Would people pay to tramp through the forest and stay in rustic cabins? At the time Costa Rica operated under more of a Hawaiian resort model emphasizing beaches and large, air-conditioned motels.
This year my family returned to Costa Rica for 10 days of volunteer work and tourism. I wondered if Jack and Diane had succeeded or even if they were still alive. Google quickly led me to the web site of what appeared to be a thriving enterprise. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that Hacienda Baru has been designated a National Wildlife Refuge.
Then Amazon Kindle led me to this book, which I bought right away and read in Costa Rica. During the trip we stayed at Hacienda Baru and reconnected with the Ewings, now in their late 60s, and employing more than 30 locals who work running an open-air restaurant, gardens, and lodging in simple screened cabins, along with a thriving rainforest guide service that attracts busloads each day. We had a small, private tour with a guide named Olman who grew up in a peasant household learning to track animals. He still tracks them expertly, but only to see, not hunt.
We learned that Jack wrote the book as a series of guest columns for local publications in Costa Rica. The essays are short meditations on the natural phenomena of Hacienda Baru based on Jack's own careful observations. You learn how a leaf-ant colony has an amazing social order for 5 million individuals; that the charismatic toucan is a ruthless bully to woodpeckers; and generally that nature is fascinating but not nice, simply a well-design and efficient system to recycle all biomass as new life.
Jack apologizes for not being a wildlife biologist, but he is an expert storyteller who makes what could be dry science come alive with personal experiences, characters and dialogue. He says he learned his craft while taking creative writing classes in high school in Greeley, Colorado. Then he honed this skill while bedridden and accepting assignments as term-paper ghost-writer. Knowing Jack only as an acquaintance, I suspect he is the rare natural writer.
The story of Hacienda Baru is a hopeful one for the future of our natural environment and resources. Since letting Hacienda Baru "go native" and linking to other habitat areas through wildlife corridors, the Ewings have witnessed an explosion in the diversity and recurrence of native species. These include white-faced monkeys, toucan, coati, jaguar and panther.
With the ecosystem more in balance from the bottom to the top of the food chain, Hacienda Baru has also seen a reduction of pests such as mosquitos, who once found halvah in the rice paddies. We stayed three days and were amazed by the diversity of life but bit once or twice.
I strongly recommend both this book and visiting Hacienda Baru; its gardens, trails and lovely pool where bats and nighthawks swoop down at sunset. You can even get there easily since the paved coastal highway 34 opened in 2010.