This photo shows the heart of the Los Cerezos community, where the Tree Bank is based. Los Cerezos is not a village in the usual sense of the term—it's a farm district with a few very modest public buildings scattered here and there, along the main roads. In the center of this photo, just below the road, you can see two long, orange-roofed buildings and another white-roofed building to their right. This compound is the local elementary school. Our nursery now occupies the land immediately behind the school. (This photo was taken in 2002, four years before the nursery was built.)

A broader view of the Los Cerezos district. The deforestation is evident, as is some highly vulnerable exposed soil (the tan or orange patches). Note that much of the green is not forest; if you look carefully, you can distinguish forests from green fields. (The very dark splotches, of course, are cloud shadows.) In pre-Columbian times, this entire area was probably forested. Today, the forest is mostly limited to mountain ridges and stream banks, where the land is least suitable for farming. It is very unlikely that any of this forest would qualify as “old growth.” Most of it has probably been cut over many times. But even so, the forest remnants are the principal repository of this region’s surviving biological wealth. And fortunately, some of the remnants are still fairly large. You can see several of these on the right. The remnants are essential for our project because we can collect wild tree seed from them for propagation at our nursery. The remnants are also de facto wildlife refuges. (This photo dates from 2002; the deforestation has almost certainly increased since then.)

A bend in the Artibonito River, about 4 kilometers (2.5 miles) south of our nursery. The Artibonito is Hispaniola’s longest river. It originates in the Dominican Republic’s central mountain range—the Cordillera Central—and passes through our project area on its way into Haiti, where most of the river lies. The Artibonite, as it’s known in Haiti, is that country’s longest river and by far its most important. (This photo dates from 2002.)

A view of the border, marked here with a yellow line. Haiti is on the left; the Dominican Republic is on the right. This area lies 9.6 kilometers (6 miles) northwest of our nursery. You can see that the deforestation is more extensive on the Haitian side of the border, but the forests are disappearing everywhere in the region. (This photo dates from 2005.)

Another view of the border, this time about 17 kilometers (10.6 miles) to the southwest of our nursery. Note the exposed soil and the advanced erosion (characterized by gulley formation) along the valleys. As in the previous photo, the degradation is extensive on both sides of the border but more extreme in Haiti. If you look carefully at the Dominican terrain, you will probably be able to tell that the green is a mixture of field and forest. The soils of this forest-field complex are likely to be in much better condition than the exposed soils, which are eroding quickly. Extensive soil loss greatly limits the prospects for both agriculture and forest restoration. (This photo dates from 2004.)

A view of Haiti about 31 kilometers (19 miles) west of our nursery. What was once Caribbean rainforest is now largely a man-made quasi-desert—a kind of eroding dryland scoured by occasional, highly erosive floods. The floods exacerbate erosion because there is so little vegetation to hold soil in place or to trap sediment from the water when it comes. (This photo dates from 2002.)

A Dominican landscape about 16 kilometers (10 miles) northeast of our nursery. The deforestation is obviously extensive here too, but the character of the landscape is quite different. Note the roads, villages, and the extensive network of riparian (stream-side) forest. (This photo dates from 2003.)

Despite the deforestation, there are still large forests in our project area, on the Dominican side of the border. The forest shown here lies about 4.5 kilometers (2.8 miles) southwest of our nursery and 6.5 kilometers (4 miles) east of the border. (The dark region that dominates this photo covers about 674 hectares or 1,665 acres.) As is typical of Dominican forest, the human imprint here is pervasive. You can see roads, fields, and areas that may be planted in tree crops. But you can also see extensive veins and clumps of what is probably more or less natural forest. The extension of forests like this may offer the best hope for much of rural Hispaniola, on both sides of the border. Forest restoration could help conserve many of the island’s native plants and animals, while creating opportunities for rural people to make a decent living. Here, as in many areas of the rural developing world, the most durable economic opportunities may actually require—not less forest—but more. (This photo dates from 2002.)