When we are walking or riding our bikes around on Seabrook, we often see a postcard-perfect scene of a vibrant natural ecosystem: golden hour on the marsh, spoonbills working the shallows for shrimp, a momma deer with wobbly baby fawns, or dolphins lazily cruising the creeks. We might imagine a peaceful, quiet life for these creatures. Aren’t they just “Livin’ the Dream” like we are?

But the reality of our barrier island’s natural environment is much more intense. Nature isn’t a peaceful sanctuary; it’s a high-stakes, constant struggle. Simply put, Nature is Savage.
To really understand the wildlife around us, we must realize that all of these creatures aren’t living like us. They don’t worry about tee times, complain about the weather, or disparage the migratory renters that pass through seasonally. Their whole existence is built around three relentless goals: (1) finding their next meal, (2) not becoming someone else’s next meal, and (3) raising their young to help their species survive. Every single day is a test. Their lives really are wild, and wildlife is an accurate description.
Every single creature on Seabrook Island is a part of the food web. Think of it as nature’s version of a neighborhood network, but instead of trading favors or borrowing a cup of sugar, it’s all about energy transfer. Every plant and animal plays a role: plants capture energy from the sun; bugs, fish, and small mammals eat plants; birds eat bugs and fish; and larger predators eat the birds and mammalian prey. It’s a delicate, interconnected cycle where everyone is a source of energy for someone else. Animals are all part of this chain, and that means eating – and being eaten- is just the basic mechanism of how the system stays balanced. Everything depends on everything else.
In the last month or so, I’ve been able to witness the savagery of nature firsthand a few times. As I watched a pair of American Oystercatchers guard and incubate their 3 egg clutch for nearly 30 days, I became more than a spectator; I morphed into a “passionate fan”. Finally, the first 2 chicks hatched, but the May king tides overwashed the nest that night, causing the parents to abandon the final egg. Within 48 hours of hatching, both super cute chicks had been predated by a bobcat. An early-season loss for Team Oystercatcher, but it’s the reality of the ecosystem. Approaching Ocean 18 after a recent round (savage in its own right), I watched a cormorant sunning his wings get suddenly BooYah’d by an alligator right before my eyes. I’ve seen a cardinal enjoying a morning splash in my birdbath only to get picked off in an instant by a Cooper’s Hawk. This time of year, much of the ruckus you hear on North Beach behind the dune line is willets chasing off crows relentlessly preying on their eggs and live chicks. Nature is Savage.
When we see these events, it’s natural to feel bad, especially when our favored team loses the match. But we must remember that those predators – the hawks, the bobcats, the gators – aren’t “villains”. They are essential balancing mechanisms in a healthy, functioning environment. This isn’t a story of victims and bad guys; it’s just the raw, unfiltered cycle of life that’s been happening on Seabrook Island long before we arrived here. We are just fortunate spectators amid a productive, balanced ecosystem. We shouldn’t feel helpless when our favorite cute animal gets eaten by another species we are less fond of. Yes, Nature is savage, but it’s only because Everything depends on everything else.
Submitted by Jeff Davis, Environmental Committee Chair
