For Gina Dello Russo, history and future visions converge on the Rio Grande

That’s why Dello Russo loves to see the Rio Grande act like a river, even briefly.

In the past, this reach of the Rio Grande spread and braided across a wide floodplain, creating pockets of habitat for different species, and even seeping into the ground. As the channel became increasingly incised, or cut down, the river separated from its historic floodplain. Over time, that action further channelized the river, cutting the river’s surface flows from its groundwater below.

But after that spring pulse receded in 2005, native willows popped up, then cottonwood trees took root. Now, thanks to that pulse 20 years ago, this tiny meander provides a spring backwater for endangered silvery minnows—tiny fish that need a slow, safe space as larvae. In winter, the sandbar hosts hundreds of sandhill cranes, who roost here overnight. “Now it’s a nice, native-dominated little forest area, where before it was isolated from the river,” Dello Russo says.

This stretch of the Rio Grande runs through Dello Russo’s blood. Her great-grandparents and grandparents farmed here, and she recalls exploring the bosque as a child, gathering plants with her grandfather and playing with cousins and friends. And though she left the area as a young woman, she returned to work alongside the Rio Grande, first for the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation as a hydrologist and then for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service as an ecologist at Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge.

She’s also spent countless hours volunteering and advocating for the river and its ecosystem. And she’s seen a lot of changes, even just in the past few decades.

“The energy of the river has changed, has lessened,” she says. There are outlier years, of course, but the river no longer floods like it once did. And as the climate warms and the region becomes increasingly arid, the flows of the Rio Grande and its tributaries will decline even further.

“The river goes through cycles, but we don’t know when we’re going to get to that point where the cycle is broken,” she says. “We have altered this system so much, and we haven’t asked the question well enough: how close are we to changing the system to the point where it’s not going to respond favorably in the future?” She’s not just talking about the lack of spring floods or regular, robust flows. The river here also consistently dries, sometimes for up to 70 or 90 miles, in the summertime.

A Report Card for the Upper Rio Grande BasinCollaboration on water management and planning has improved among federal and state agencies, non-governmental organizations, communities, and tribes. But long-term solutions that work for the river and all its stakeholders remain elusive, she says.

“For a long time, myself and many others have called for secure funding that allows us to do things in a methodical way and to make progress without fits and starts,” she says. WWF has recently published two studies (1, 2) which outline a collaborative path to recovery using science and policy to guide available water-use optimization, habitat restoration, and water resilient farming. The steps to take to restore a healthy Rio Grande are understood. However, without consistent funding and follow-up, the river suffers, restoration projects lose traction – and people get worn out with the work. .

She’s hopeful that WWF will continue to bring technical assistance to the Rio Grande in New Mexico. She also appreciates that WWF’s staff and partners offer insight into what has or hasn’t worked in other parts of the world—but leave the decision-making to those who live here.

That’s especially important in places like Socorro and Escondida, where many different farmers own lands in the Rio Grande floodplain. It’s also different from upstream reaches, where cities, public lands, and tribes adjoin the channel. These small farmers have unique needs, she says, and they also bring a lot to the table.

“I’ve always thought it brings in more diverse partners and potential because the people that bought land on the sides of the river, bought floodplain land, they loved the fact that they’re on the floodplain and have cottonwood trees,” she says.

Of course, as an ecologist and daughter of the valley, she knows humans are not the only important members of the community.

During her federal career, she always had to justify habitat restoration projects, she says, earning grants here and there — one to benefit endangered species, another to remove invasive plants, and yet another to reduce fire danger. She wants to see environmental flows restored to the Rio Grande, which deserves a better future — a future that shouldn’t have to be justified.

“The river was here first, and has drawn so many entities to its banks, and those include wildlife species, plants, and humans,” she says. “There’s a reason for that: it provides. But do I have to justify the river’s future by what it provides to me? No. No, I don’t.”