An Exhibition by Kat Von Hacke

The Cherokee people call the red wolf the “Red Grandfather” (Gigage-Unidoda) and honor them as teachers and protectors of balance in the world. That sense of balance is exactly what has been lost in the Appalachian Mountains since the red wolf disappeared.

Why Red Wolves Matter

Red wolves are more than endangered wolves they are keystone species, which means the health of the whole forest depends on them. When red wolves are present, they:

• • Keep smaller predators in check. Without wolves, raccoons, opossums, and coyotes become too numerous. These animals raid bird nests and disrupt the balance of the forest. In North Carolina, when red wolves declined, raccoon sightings doubled.
• • Strengthen deer herds. Wolves hunt the weak and sick, which keeps deer healthy and prevents overgrazing. This allows wildflowers, shrubs, and young trees to grow back.
• • Help forests and rivers recover. When prey animals move more carefully, plants like willow and aspen can grow. Over time, this supports beavers, fish, and birds — making the whole ecosystem richer and more diverse.

As biologist Chris Gentile once said:

“Anytime you lose a piece of that puzzle, it becomes a weaker system… [restoring one is] like restoring one of those missing pieces.”

What Happens Without Them

A recent study in North Carolina showed what happens when wolf numbers drop too low. Within just a few years, bobcats, bears, and especially raccoons surged in number. This “mesopredator release” puts songbirds, turtles, and even farm fields at risk. Deer also increase without wolves to balance them, which can strip away young plants and weaken the forest. In short: when the red wolf is missing, the whole system begins to wobble.

Lessons from the Past

In the 1990s, scientists tried to bring red wolves back to the Great Smoky Mountains. The effort was challenging — some pups didn’t survive, and others mixed with coyotes. Though that project ended, it taught us valuable lessons. Today, about 18 adults live wild in North Carolina, alongside over 200 in special breeding programs. These efforts give hope that one day red wolves may return to the wider Appalachian Mountains.

Looking Ahead

The story of the red wolf is about more than one species. It’s about learning that when even a single piece of nature’s puzzle is missing, the balance of life can fall apart. By protecting and restoring wolves, we are also protecting birds, forests, rivers, and the next generation who will inherit this land.

This piece highlights two invasive species that have become deeply associated with the South, even though neither is truly native here.

Kudzu was introduced in the 1930s to combat erosion along roads and railroads because of how quickly it spreads. In only a few decades, it overtook the southern landscape, climbing trees, covering buildings, and becoming nearly impossible to control. Kudzu is now so familiar that it’s become an icon of southern imagery—woven into everything from festivals to folk sayings.

Coyotes spread into the Southeast after the decline of apex predators like cougars and wolves. They were also intentionally introduced for hunting purposes, which helped establish their presence here. Though often viewed negatively, coyotes play an ecological role by keeping populations of smaller animals in check, ultimately boosting biodiversity in the absence of larger predators.

By pairing these two species together, this piece raises awareness of how easily invasive species can thrive once introduced, and the complicated ways they reshape the balance of an ecosystem. No matter where you stand on kudzu or coyotes, they have both become unlikely staples of the southern landscape.

Can you think of other species that aren't native to our area that are common?

In this piece, I wanted to capture the haunting beauty of Appalachia in autumn — a season filled with both splendor and shadows.

Black foxes are a rare occurrence, born from a genetic mutation. I paired this little vixen with a raven, her unlikely companion. In the wild, foxes and ravens are often at odds, ravens steal food from foxes and even chase them away. Wolves, on the other hand, sometimes share a unique, cooperative bond with ravens.

But here, the vixen and raven are friends. Perhaps the raven was drawn to her dark coloring, recognizing something of itself in her? Or perhaps it is simply a story of two outcasts finding kinship.

Together they share a secret conversation among the fallen leaves, ghost pipes, chicken of the woods, and the dark beauty of black columbine flowers, glowing against a fiery autumn sunset.

What do you think they are talking about?