Modern conservation is often traced to the establishment of Yellowstone National Park in the U.S. in 1872. In Sweden, a similar milestone came with the founding of Sarek National Park in 1909, partly intended to protect the endangered brown bear of the far north. Yet, long before states established national parks and environmental agencies, people across the world protected landscapes through religion, customary law, and Indigenous stewardship. In Japan, Shinto shrine forests have been preserved for centuries. In India, villagers continue to maintain sacred groves. Ethiopia’s churches and monasteries are often encircled by protected forests, while parts of rural Italy still contain sacred landscapes rooted in traditions older than Christianity itself. Some are associated with Francis of Assisi, the patron saint of animals and ecology; others may descend from sites once dedicated to Jupiter. A growing body of research suggests that such places have often functioned — intentionally or otherwise — as informal systems of conservation. In 2021, the researcher Piero Zannini and his colleagues published a systematic review of sacred natural sites and biodiversity conservation. Examining studies from around the world, they found that sacred natural sites frequently contained greater biodiversity, more intact vegetation, and better-preserved ecosystems than surrounding landscapes. Sacred places, they argued, often operate as effective forms of conservation grounded not in state bureaucracy or scientific management, but in cosmology, ritual, and local tradition. Sami people in Enontekiö, Finland, at the summit of Saana Fell, which they consider sacred. Image by Ninara via Flickr (CC BY 2.0).…This article was originally published on Mongabay

Every city faces difficult choices about how to use its land. As populations grow, governments must provide homes, transport and other essential infrastructure while protecting the natural ecosystems that make cities liveable. These decisions are often framed as a trade-off between development and conservation, with forests viewed primarily as reservoirs of biodiversity or stores of carbon. What if we have been overlooking one of their most important contributions? As climate change intensifies, urban heat worsens and chronic diseases associated with sedentary, high-stress lifestyles continue to rise, a growing body of research suggests forests are far more than wildlife habitat. They are living public infrastructure that helps keep people physically healthy, mentally resilient and socially connected. Mature forests cool neighborhoods, encourage physical activity, provide opportunities for stress relief, strengthen community cohesion and support biodiversity, which is fundamental to many of these benefits. This perspective is particularly relevant in Singapore. The city-state has earned global recognition for integrating nature into one of the world’s most densely populated urban environments. Yet many of its remaining forests – including the 23-hectare (57-acre) Maju Forest in Clementi – are increasingly under pressure from development. Current plans would retain about one-third of the forest and convert approximately 15 hectares (37 acres) into public housing. Over 100 species of wildlife have been recorded in Maju Forest and six – mainly birds – are of conservation significance, including the straw-headed bulbul (pictured), buffy fish-owl, changeable hawk-eagle, oriental magpie-robin, bamboo bat and long-tailed macaque. Image courtesy of Singapore’s National…This article was originally published on Mongabay