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Showing posts with label fire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fire. Show all posts

Thursday, August 1, 2019

Sound of the Wild

Think about the sounds you typically hear over the course of a  normal day. It starts with the alarm clock and quickly fills with noise. The toaster, the hairdryer, the microwave, cars, cars, and more cars, people talking and shouting, buses, trucks, trains, planes, and of course your phone. If you're lucky you heard some birds singing on the way out the door. Other than the lawnmower, popcorn, and a log on the fire, my favorite sounds come from a land far from modern conveniences.
Next time you are out and about pay attention to what you hear. Insects buzzing, birds singing and calling, the wind in the trees (or your ears). In the mountains you might hear pikas and marmots barking, or larger animals like coyotes or wolves howling in the distance. In the fall, you might be treated to the eerie sound of bugling elk.
A not-so-distant coyote, not howling
Water is life, and it also provides a great soundtrack. I can listen to crashing ocean waves or a gurgling river all day long. Rain falling on surfaces other than pavement is a wonderful experience. The pattering on a tree canopy is soothing enough to forget about being soaked, and rain falling in a pond is a magical sound. In a naturally quiet environment like a cave, there's a good chance you'll hear only a single drop of water at a time, maybe a few seconds apart, maybe a few minutes. Even better than rain is the sound of thunder in the distance. This can be a bit worrisome if you're a long way from shelter.
The soothing sounds of the Firehole River
Late summer nights, if there is no thunder, fall asleep to the sound of the crickets. In the spring, fall asleep to the sound of the tree frogs. Another special spring sound, which I've only heard once, is the knocking sound the trees make after the thaw when they start absorbing water and their sap is flowing again. It took a while to figure that one out.
Pacific tree frogs, a sure sign of spring
Here is a link to a short video of some sounds recorded at Yellowstone National Park. Note that the pictures don't necessarily correspond to the sounds. See how many sounds you can figure out!

Friday, August 24, 2018

Everglades Ecosystems


This week and next we’re taking a look at the largest subtropical wilderness in America, the Everglades. What we now know as Everglades National Park is just a fraction of the original Everglades, and unfortunately, almost daily it becomes a larger percentage of what of remains today. While what remains is an incredibly diverse variety of habitats, each with their own plants and animals, it is not without its challenges. We’ll explore what’s so special about this place as well as what’s going wrong there.
In its former glory, the Everglades was a huge watershed. Water flowed south from areas north of Lake Okeechobee and drained to the east, west, and south. Some of the water flowed east and west into the Atlantic Ocean and Gulf of Mexico, respectively, through traditional rivers and streams. Some water flowed out through the slow-moving “River of Grass”, as the Everglades became known as. Where the water goes and how much gets there determines the many different ecosystems.
Many other factors go into building an ecosystem, including geology and climate. To me, what gives an ecosystem its character is its plant life. The Everglades has quite the cast of characters, with grasses inhabiting the freshwater sloughs and marl and coastal prairies. Marl prairie is grassland of thin soil formed on top of limestone bedrock. The soil is high in calcite and the bedrock may be exposed in some areas. Rainwater becomes acidic as it dissolves plant material, and even a weak acid can easily dissolve limestone. The bedrock here is very porous. Marl prairies drain slowly.
Marl prairie (Florida Museum of Natural History)
Freshwater sloughs are main arteries for water flowing to the sea. The water moves very slowly and is very grassy. The sloughs are dotted with “islands” of trees and are bounded by the higher and drier marl prairies.
Freshwater slough (NPS)
Mangrove forests line the channels and rivers in the coastal and estuarine areas of the Everglades. Mangroves buffer the coast from storms, collect sediment to form new land, and harbor a vast array of birds, reptiles, mammals, and fishes. See my earlier blog post for more details.
Mangroves (NPS)
Hardwood hammocks are dense wooded areas on slight rises. Temperate and tropical tree species mingle here, and because the surrounding lowlands are either wet or not land at all, fire rarely reaches here. The dense canopy creates a dark and humid environment where ferns thrive.
Hardwood hammock (NPS)
Pine rocklands form on high ground around exposed limestone bedrock. These forests are less dense than hardwood hammocks. Fire keeps the understory open and hardwoods at bay.
Pine rockland (NPS)

Marine areas of Everglades National Park also have plant communities. Seagrasses stabilize the bottom, trap sediments, provide a nursery for fishes, and feed underwater herbivores. Lobsters, crabs, shrimp, corals, and sponges are also found offshore.
Florida Bay marine habitat (NPS)
Next week we'll look more at the plants and animals of the Everglades, as well as challenges the region faces. Information and photos this week come from the National Park Service.

Thursday, August 9, 2018

The Sage of the West


Let’s head back into the heat again this week and explore another warm, dry ecosystem. Sage scrubland is semi-arid and unless you live there, you probably aren’t familiar with it. Like the desert, it can appear to be devoid of life unless you know where to look.
Sage scrubland in Idaho (USFS)
The ecosystem is defined by sagebrush being the dominant plant species with hot, dry summers and cold winters. Most precipitation is winter snow and spring rain. Sage scrubland ecosystems are found in the Intermountain West and California’s coastal chaparral ecosystem.
Many animals call the sage scrubland home. Small mammals and reptiles are well represented in the list of fauna. The endangered black-footed ferret is among them, and it was in Wyoming’s sage scrubland that a colony was discovered after the species had been given up as extinct. They were all captured and put into a captive breeding program which has seeded recovery efforts throughout the West. Larger mammals include elk, mule deer, and pronghorn.
Black-footed ferret (USFWS)
Birds of prey are common inhabitants of this ecosystem. The sage grouse (of course) also calls this area home. This threatened bird relies heavily on the sagebrush for its survival. Not only is sage a staple if its diet, it also uses the plant for cover.
Male sage grouse (USFWS)
Sagebrush, the dominant plant in this ecosystem, provides sustenance for species other than the sage grouse. When the deer and the antelope aren’t playing, they can be found nibbling on sage brush. It is especially important during the winter when other lower plants are buried under snow. 
Like so many other habitats in the world, sage scrubland is in danger. Development destroys or fragments the habitat. Oil and gas drilling scare away resident critters and disrupt migrations. Invasive plants crowd out the natives and create a vegetation density conducive to fire. While sagebrush can withstand low intensity fire, hotter fires fueled by invasive cheatgrass destroys it. Agriculture converts sage land to crop land.
Sagebrush in Oregon
There is hope, of course. Most sage scrubland is in sparsely populated areas so it is disappearing at a slower pace than other areas. Agriculture, which can be destructive to this ecosystem, can also be a conservation partner. It makes a great low-maintenance rangeland if done sustainably.
Sage scrubland is an important, but unheard of ecosystem. Most people think of the Intermountain West as just drive-through or fly-over country. Eastern Washington is a million shades of brown from 30,000 feet. But while driving across eastern Oregon, southern Idaho, and northern Wyoming I was quite taken with the beauty and solitude of the seemingly endless sea of sage.
This week's information comes from US Fish and Wildlife Service, Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife, and Wyoming Game and Fish Department.

Thursday, July 20, 2017

The Devil's Weed

Richard Nixon had an enemies list, and so do I. Unlike Tricky Dick, my enemies are not political foes but plants. Specifically, the invasive Scotch broom and Himalayan blackberry. Both take advantage of disturbances and are persistent. My worst nightmare came true when I found a Scotch broom growing intertwined with a blackberry. I just know they were plotting against me!
Let’s start with Scotch broom. Native to Europe, this shrub with the ugly yellow flower came to America to fight soil erosion and brighten up roadsides. Once it took root, it took over. I’ve seen fields of it. Even a forest of old growth Scotch broom, trees 15 feet tall crowding out the native vegetation. It takes over grasslands and forest, causing habitat loss for the many critters who call grasslands and forests home. If eaten, it can be toxic.
Old growth Scotch broom- not too impressive but it's winter in this picture
Great, it puts nitrogen in the soil (it’s actually a member of the pea family), but what good is nitrogenated soil if no one else gets to use it? Seeds can remain viable in the soil for 80 years, maybe longer. Fire doesn’t destroy them; in fact, they may even benefit from fire since this weed loves a disturbed area. Constant pulling is the best way to control this fiend. Just don’t pull a muscle in your back like I did.
Scotch broom monoculture (from Bingham County, ID)
Himalayan blackberries may be even worse than Scotch broom. Blackberries can fight back. The canes are covered in thorns that make cutting them a chore that involves getting yourself cut in the process. The canes grow up, droop down, and sprout a whole new bush when they reach the ground. Each bush gives off thousands of berries, each with dozens of seeds. Birds, bears, raccoons, and who knows what else eat the berries and poop put the seeds, spreading more evil bushes far and wide.
The Himalayan blackberry is a failed experiment by food biologist Luther Burbank. Using selective breeding, he created varieties of fruits and vegetables that we still eat today. The Himalayan blackberry (which originated in Armenia) was supposed to be a thornless variety. Instead, it turned out to be perfectly adapted to life in the Northwest. It can grow just about anywhere and will cover anything in its path. The one pictured below (next to a tree) is at least 15 feet tall. I added a second picture with the entire tree visible, for perspective.
Himalayan blackberry under this Douglas fir

Left Douglas fir is the one seen above


When you are working on restoring a site to its natural condition, there will more than likely be at least one invasive plant. But it gets so frustrating when you have to clear the same plants year after year, especially when you know you got rid of them all the year before. Diligence and persistence are probably the two most important tools in any restoration ecologist’s kit.
Himalayan blackberry is just now beginning to bear fruit

Scotch broom greets me at my land trust property

Here's the variety with red on the flowers
Luther Burbank info came from this fascinating NPR article. The monoculture picture is from Bingham County, Idaho's noxious weed program.


Sunday, July 9, 2017

Fired Up For Summer

Summer is full of fun in the sun, cookouts, trips to the beach, bugs, and in the West, fire. Every year thousands of acres, mostly in the West, burn. Some are caused by lightning strikes and others are caused by human carelessness or even intentionally set. Lives are lost and property is destroyed. But fire is nature’s way of renewing itself. Within days of a fire (assuming it wasn’t a wildfire that sterilized the soil) new plants colonize the area, followed by the animals.
Fireweed, one of the first plants to colonize an area after a disturbance
Certain evergreen trees need fire to reproduce, the seed cones unable to open without the extreme heat. In other areas, such as meadows and prairies, fire destroys competing plants that would otherwise change the characteristics of the ecosystem. Many birds are dependent on shrubs and trees that require a more open area than dense forest, and without fire keeping those areas open the plants and birds would become homeless. 
Aftermath of a fire at Crater Lake National Park
Why are today’s fires so devastating? To answer that question, we need to use the Wayback Machine and visit the birth of forest management in the 1800s. Forests were being managed for timber production, and fire was seen as the enemy. Since fire was a threat to destroy the product, it had to be suppressed. Fire suppression was so good, that by the time we figured out that a burn every now and then was a good thing, there was such a tremendous buildup of fuel that any small fire could potentially become a highly destructive canopy fire. 
Okanogan wildfire (Washington Department of Natural Resources)
Many trees, like the ponderosa pine, have a thick fire-resistant bark that enables them to survive the healthy kind of slow-moving ground fire that clears out the underbrush and opens up seed cones. With excessive fuel laying around, the fire can reach the canopy of the trees and rapidly destroy anything in its path. 
Ponderosa pine, which has fire-resistant bark and fire-dependent seeds
Prairie fires were human-caused maintenance fires before white settlers arrived and replaced prairies with farms and towns. In the Great Plains, natives set fires to burn the grass to allow for fresh growth that would attract the bison that were so vital to their existence. In the Northwest, prairie fires kept the forest from invading the open areas were camas flowers grow. Camas bulbs were an important part of some tribes’ diets. 
2015 Alder Lake fire near Eatonville, WA

2015 Alder Lake fire near Eatonville, WA

While most of the big fires making headlines are in the West, Florida and Georgia have had a few in recent years. A potentially explosive situation in the making is the Pine Barrens of New Jersey, where an uncontrolled wildfire could put thousands of lives at risk.
Some information on fires is from US Fish and Wildlife Service. A map of current fires is available from the National Interagency Fire Center.