Catch Up #7 - Nothing to See Here?
If the experience of joining me on this summarizing sweep through the changes that we’re experiencing in the forests over the past five years has left you feeling a little low, I understand and can’t blame you. As the person doing his best to pay attention and capture and share the tale, I find it rough at times as well. How could a chronicle filled with struggling and dying trees, flooding and drying creeks and nearby wildfire in the ‘hood be uplifting?
But there is much more to this tale. Three, geographically separate forests make up Hyla Woods. All are within twenty miles of one another on the eastern slopes of the northern Oregon Coast Range. So far, I have neglected to tell you that essentially all of my recounting of change, challenge and loss have come from one of the three forest – our 750 acre Mt. Richmond Forest. While this forest is experiencing extensive areas of tree stress and die off, in our Timber and Manning Forests, the trees continue to appear vital and vigorous. While Mt. Richmond’s creeks and drainage reflect changes in both high and low flows, the multiple creeks flowing through the other two forests show little or no sign of noticeable change.
Is it true that when it comes to the other two forests there is “nothing to see here”? There may be two answers: 1) yes, the more dramatic changes reshaping the Mt. Richmond Forest don’t appear to be happening in the other two, or 2) shifting pressures may be influencing the other two forests, but perhaps in more subtle ways that we have not yet learned how to detect? In his excellent Hurricane Lizards and Plastic Squids, Thor Hanson has encouragement for those of us tracking change in ecosystems. He encourages us to watch for and make the distinction between those changes that may be easily detected and come on rapidly, as opposed to those that are likely to come on much more gradually and be harder to detect. Time may help us better assess the relative impacts of both types. This distinction motivates me to be mindful that the second types of slow and subtle changes may be happening in all three of the forests and we are not yet perceptive enough to detect and track them.
A second logical question deserves attention: “what factors might explain why Mt Richmond Forest is being reshaped by increasing pressures while the other forests are apparently not?”. We think that we know the main answers. While the other two forests have older, more diverse, native forests growing on relatively deep, rich and well drained soils, much of Mt. Richmond Forests are younger, less diverse plantation forests, often growing on soils that are less fertile, shallow and poorly drained due to the legacy of major landslides across much of the forest. The other two forests are well within the historic zone dominated by fir and hemlock, while on Mt. Richmond conifers grow in the valley edge zone that were historically home to oak and other hardwoods. As a result, we now wrestle with challenges that are one consequence of previous owners choosing to impose the forest types they preferred on lands that are not well suited to supporting them. Again, the forests teach us the importance of paying more attention than many have in the past and taking care to better understand and work within the current and projected realities of the land.
Living and working with three forests that are near one another, though different from one another in significant ways, reminds us of the dangers of the common, sweeping proclamations of “best practices” in forest stewardship and the importance of being sensitive and adaptable in correctly assessing the specific traits of the forests and how best to work within them.
“Nothing to see here?” - Of course, there is always so much to see and learn, but we’re grateful that only one of our three forests seems to be experiencing significant responses to accelerating stresses. But what might future years bring?
