Quarterly Update - 2025 Q2
Welcome – To write that “each day brings new uncertainties, challenges and disequilibrium” feels trite because hasn’t this always been the case? Yet, in this first half of 2025, the observation feels uniquely true. Forcing myself to make good on my commitment to pull together and share quarterly updates is equal parts overwhelming challenge, because so much is happening, and a calming grounding, thanks to carefully narrowing my focus to the tangible anchor of the forests.
A helpful starting point for this update seems to be reminding ourselves of our central questions:
- What has changed in the Hyla Woods forests – and what hasn’t?
- Why?
- How have those changes changed us?
- What’s changing in the wider world that directly influences the forests?
These lead to the wider and related questions that continue to fascinate me:
- Who are we, as a species?
- What light does this decade shed on what humans are, or are not, willing and able to do?
- Which of two human traits will prevail – our commitment to life, caring and community or our inclinations toward greed, short sightedness and exploitation?
The suspense of this decisive decade continues! “And then what will happen...?”
In the Forests –
In my daily travels through the forest, I am struck by the comforting impression that little seems to have changed. Spring’s surge of solar energy drive the leaders of the conifers up another predictable several feet. Forest soils slowly release their moisture from the saturation of early spring toward the crispy dry of summer. The steady flow of cold, clean water from the forests’ springs feed the network of creeks and rivers beyond. The songs of the creeks decline from the rumble of spring high water to the nearly inaudible burble of lower, summer flows, eager chicks call from nests, frogs sing from the ponds and we catch fleeting glimpses of cubs and fawns struggling to keep up with their mothers when we round the curve in the road.
Ecological Integrity Grows – I’m uplifted by the many ways that I can easily see the ecological integrity of many parts of the forests increasing with each passing year. Bigger, older trees. Move diversity, complexity and resilience in the webs of life. As shared in earlier posts, in sections of the forest where fir plantations have died off, we’ve been forced to start over by first fighting back the invasive plants that would overwhelm the site and then planting a new forest made up of a mix of tree and plant species that we judge best suited to the site, now and into the future. This spring, it has been heartening to track the success of these experiments. Young trees are outrunning the competing vegetation. The small steps we’ve taken to carefully shift some new tree species in, mainly Valley ponderosa pine and Incense cedar are resulting in these tough, young trees rising ever higher, more quickly then expected. In proactive anticipation of the pending die off of our beloved Ash, these are two of the species that appear to be best suited to those wet areas that Ash currently calls home.
Ecological Integrity Declines – In the same way that one can’t deny the reality of a rising tide or a dull saw, there remain small sections of the forests that are in slow, undeniable decline. In areas where previous owners planted a monoculture of Douglas-fir on ridges with thin, poorer soils, the trees, due to increasing stresses linked to heat and moisture, slowly become less vigorous with each passing year. Crowns thin. The most vulnerable trees die. The increased light reaching the forest floor feeds the new growth of invasive blackberries which, without intervention, will soon dominate the understory. Past experience gives us confidence in what actions we need to take and those actions rise on our “to do” list. Ecologists teach us to distinguish between those forest changes that happen rapidly and dramatically as opposed to those that come on slowly and subtly. Both are significant. Here we’re dealing with the latter. We have time – but not much more.
The Green Blizzard – With each spring comes what we call the “green blizzard”. New growth goes crazy – with both what we’re thrilled to see growing as well as those aggressive plants that we must battle. In the same way that one waits for the winter blizzard to end before venturing out to take stock, the same “wait, see and assess” happens for forest stewards all across western Oregon. In the window between when growth slows down and fire danger rises, we work hard to do the equivalent of shoveling the snowdrifts out of the driveway – as we mow grass, clear roads and protect young trees from being overwhelmed. The presence of aggressive, non native plants, primarily blackberry and scotch broom, adds a much higher level of challenge than if they were not part of the forests. With this work comes a dilemma with which we have wrestled for forty years: “what role should and will herbicides play as we work with the invasives?”. Answering that is a complex story for another time. Regardless, a moment of relief falls over the forest when shifting conditions in mid summer bring an end to this year’s wave of new growth. The blizzard has passed – until next year.
What’s Possible? One answer to the question of “how have changes in the forests changed us?” is that events in this decade have expanded out understandings of what is possible. Each 28th of June brings an anniversary that reminds me that the temperature really can rise to 116*. Having seen how extraordinarily heavy rains will overwhelm the drainage systems of our forest roads, I have new reasons to give thanks when the roads come through a wet spell without damage, thanks to our advance preparations to redirect flows. The sense of predictability of conditions with which I lived for my first half century has been replaced by a disconcerting awareness that so much is unknown about what might lie ahead – for the thermometer, rain gauge and all else in life. While it is tempting to follow the trend of referring to a “new normal”, I resist doing that because of the ways that the term can falsely implies a sense of stability that I sense we will never again see. Regardless, we carry on, appreciating that there is so much to appreciate.
“And in Other News...” – This spring has been a dry one, but well within the normal range of variability. Trees planted this winter are working harder than normal to survive their tenuous first summer while facing higher odds of mortality – but that is nothing new. Bird numbers were lower than normal in our annual, spring monitoring. The cold, clean water flowing from the forests’ reliable springs and feeding the network of creeks and wetlands is currently flowing continuously to the nearby Tualatin River. We’ll watch closely to see whether it remains alive and flowing throughout the summer. On the southern boundary of the Mt. Richmond Forest, the recent sale of the 90 year old forest by the long time owner led to the forest being trucked off to the mill. This exposes the soils and raises the question of how well trees might reestablish and grow on this site with its poor soils and full, southern exposure to the summer sun. And then....?
What Goes Around – Living with ones life intertwined with forests is to live closely with so many forms of cycles. Bear cubs learning to walk, long lived elk reaching the end and becoming food for scavengers, and tiny coho smolts departing downstream and climbing back up to the forest as large, powerful, bright spawners. This spring, the same normal and healthy cycles are happening within our family as we implement the shifting of forest ownership and leadership from my generation on into the willing and capable hands of the next generation. How fortunate that the fates allow this cycle to endure for our family. We’re focused and working together to guide this transition as well as possible; the forests deserve our best – and no less.
The Wider World – The rate and magnitude of change during this first half of 2025 is far greater than at any other time in my life. This is driven, almost exclusively, by actions being taken by the new federal administration. Because it is too overwhelming and complex for me to attempt to summarize here, my approach will be to narrow my focus to two dimensions: 1) how I feel about what is happening and 2) those changes which have direct impacts on the three Hyla Woods forests. Because the impacts of climate change permeate essentially everything, it is appropriate to share an update on changes in the levels of atmospheric CO2. A respected and reliable metric is provided by measurements taken atop Hawaii’s volcano, Mauna Loa. In June 2020 the measured level was 416.58 parts per million. By June of 2024 it rose to 426.61 and in June 2025 it has risen 429.61. The past two years have resulted in the two highest levels of annual increase since records began. The President’s recently approved budget calls for the closing of this observatory that has tracked global climate for over seventy years.
In keeping with one of this project’s central questions being “how are the changes we’re experience affecting me and us?”, it seems appropriate to share two passages from my forest journal. In early June I wrote: “I can’t avoid or deny feeling a deep sense of tragedy and grief about what is happening – and not happening – in the world. In this window of time when meaningful change is so needed, we continue to travel in the wrong directions. The impacts of these feelings are inescapable, but should I share them or keep them to myself?”. A month later, having forgotten the earlier entry, in the spirit of bearing witness and keeping track, I wrote “It seems worth acknowledging that what’s going on in this country and world is deeply and inescapably tragic”. As a person who deliberately – and successfully - chooses joy over despair, it is hard to acknowledge and share these feelings. The question about what I and others do with this feeling of tragedy deserves and gets attention. It is a topic that will be woven into future updates.
In assessing changes in the wider world that influence the forests that my family and I care for, it feels appropriate to focus on the most dominant and troubling influence, the steady and rapid movement of the United States toward autocracy. Analysis of the transition toward autocracy, informed by cases all around the world, have been summarized into ten, increment and successive steps. Stacey Abrams of Georgia succinctly summarizes both the steps as well as strategies for combating the change in this clip between min. 2:10 and 6:30. Here is my simplistic summary:
1. Be elected to lead a nation
2. Expand executive power
3. Use your power to make congress complicit, compliant and weak. Neutralize and neuter the judiciary
4. Gut the civil service and break the ability of democratic government to serve people’s needs
5. Place cooperative loyalists into positions of power and direct them to attack your enemies
6. Break the systems that help citizens communicate. Criticize and undermine the media, replacing it with propaganda which leads people to question and distrust facts
7. Isolate those who are most vulnerable by blaming and demonizing them. Build perceptions of threats to justify your taking even more power
8. Attack and weaken those most capable and inclined to defend those who you are isolating and blaming. Attack and weaken higher education
9. Encourage and support private violence, including kidnapping of people off of the street and denying them due process. Try to quiet and attack descent
10. Cancel future elections
Faced with my self-assigned task of attempting to coherently summarize the past quarter, it is chilling to see how closely what we’re experiencing aligns with the autocrat’s playbook.
But “what does this have to do with a Coast Range forest?” is a reasonable question that you may be asking? To show how the impacts have crossed into the forests in tangible and troubling ways, here are examples:
Step 6 – “Gut the civil service and disable government” – Capable partners in the federal government with whom we have worked for years have become absent or seriously weakened. Key staff have “retired” or are too short staffed to communicate or cooperate. Our nearby wildlife refuge feels abandoned, with locked and neglected restrooms and no staff available to continue valuable community partnerships. Local salmon recovery plans have been defunded and cancelled. Our long labored over Private Forest Accord is stalled due to inability of federal agencies to complete necessary approvals. There seems to be no staff available to take responsibility for the BLM forest that we adjoin on two sides. With the recent announcement of plans to close the Forest Service’s Pacific Northwest Research Station, our active partnership with their staff to monitor impacts of Ash die off is unlikely to continue. And defunding of valuable programs at our land grant university, compromises their ability to be the reliable partner on community projects that we all need them to be.
Step 7 – “Isolate those who are most vulnerable by blaming and demonizing them” and Step 9 “Encourage and support private violence, including kidnapping of people off of the street and denying them due process. Try to quiet and attack descent“ - Essential work in our forests is often done by hard working, Spanish speaking people. In our immediate area, members of that community continue to be among those who are first targeted in ICE raids which, in many cases result in deportation without due process of law. In addition to the injustice of these actions, our local workforce continues to be dangerously diminished. There are understandable levels of fear and uncertainty throughout the community.
But We Have Power - As explained by Stacey Abrams, we, the citizens, have power to resist, slow down and reverse these trends. Here are encouraging examples of ways that I see that happening in our local, forest-focused community:
- Many projects and activities are actively counteracting the trends toward isolation and divisive polarization. Examples include the upcoming NW Innovative Forestry Summit, former adversaries coming together in solidarity to imagine and commit to the Private Forest Accord, and ongoing, engagement by people with diverse perspectives and priorities to create and govern new research forests close to our forests. These and related projects show us what is possible and necessary.
- All across our region, Oregonians are on their feet and raising their voices in peaceful protests and meetings with elected official in large numbers and in unlikely places.
- As federal partners abandon their roles in essential community projects, others are stepping up to shoulder the load and provide determined leadership and reliable follow through.
- On the local level, the transition to clean energy sources continues in spite of federal resistance and abandonment, driven by the basic powers of logical economics combined with state and local policies.
- And finally, countering the turning of backs on facts and the rising tide of propaganda, many rise to Abrams’ command that “we’ve got to tell the truth”, by redoubling our commitment to reliable information, analysis and reporting about our forests and our relationships with them. This project is one, small, humble example of trying to do that.
Even in these dark, uncertain and challenging times, there is so much that can be done and solid reasons for gratitude.
What’s There to Love?
It is easy to see why I save the most uplifting part of these updates for last, given the weighty events of the first half of this year. From my large sack filled with notes reminding me of how much there is to love in the forests, here is a sampling linked to this summer season.
- The Forest Anchor – For the past forty years, the Hyla Woods forests have always served as reliable, inspiring and uplifting anchors in my family’s lives. Though having our lives intertwined with forests confronts us with plenty of challenges, it is rare to end a day of forest work not feeling more grounded, settled, energized and uplifted. In 2025, this is more so than ever before. In the rising sea of ugly, cruel discourse, the sounds of birds, running water and wind in the trees are healing and uplifting. In this world where facts are increasingly discredited or ignored and too much is pretend and artificial, the very real and elemental nature of forest work is badly needed and appreciated good medicine.
- Working With Good People – A pleasure of our forest work is the wide mix of talented, knowledgeable and committed people that we have the good fortune to work with. Drawn together by common goals, whether they be tree planters, scientists, agency staff, students, community volunteers, loggers or artists, with each interaction we come to know and appreciate one another better. One important quality of these relationships is our acceptance of topics that we don’t agree on and that that is normal and healthy. One person whose work has most positively shaped the forests in recent years is restoration ecologist, Mike Conroy. As a highly skilled employee of the Tualatin Soil and Water Conservation District, Mike has generously shared his knowledge, skill and hard, creative work. Mike has played a key role in shaping and implementing strategies for restoring struggling areas of the forest back toward ecologically functional new forests. We acknowledge and thank Mike for his reliable, good spirit and for the crucial role that he plays.
- Surprise! I love the unexpected surprises that pop up on each twist and turn of this forest restoration journey. Well, most of them! Here are examples from the past year:
o Skunks? Who knew? After many decades of having no awareness of skunks living in the forests, 2025 has brought multiple sightings – and no smellings, yet!
o Spotting, closely observing and reading about the rare and magical plant known as Ghost plant or Indian Pipe has brought surprises. Monotropa uniflora is unique in lacking chlorophyll and not photosynthesizing. With their direct connections the forest’s fungal webs, these bright white plants remind us of the importance and mysteries beneath our feet.
o Our small steps toward better understanding and monitoring the ecological roles of bats in the forests lead to plenty of surprises – including the number of bat-related questions that remain unanswered.
- Cool Air - In spite of the appropriately rising number of words being spread about ecosystem services, in general, and the role of forests in moderating thermal extremes, in particular, nothing communicates this value better than walking through the bottom of a draw dominated by large, old trees on a hot summer’s day and being refreshed by the downstream flow of cooler aim. The welcome surprise is a gift.
- Another Year... - If patience is not one of your traits, living with forests will definitely try to teach you. As we continue the long and hard work of restoring an 11 acre pasture to an oak forest, there is much there to love. Helping any young tree get established and grow beyond the plants and critters likely to kill it requires patience, but doing this with slow growing oaks requires even more patience. As spring rolls into summer, we survey tree growth throughout the Oakey Dokey and love noting the increasing numbers of trees that now grow above our heads. “Just one more year!” is a common and appropriate mantra.
And From the Bookshelf –
There are too many recently published books that are relevant to this project not to add a feature to these updates:
- Born of Rain and Forest; A Journey Into a Pacific Coastal Forest by M. L. Herring
- Resilient Forest Management by P. Burton
- The Trees are Speaking; Dispatches from the Salmon Forests by L. Mapes
- The Pygmy-Owls of Forest Park (a novel!) by J. Dresler
- The Other Public Lands; Preservation, Extraction and Politics on Fifty States’ Natural Resource Lands by S. Davis
Thank you for joining me for this update as we navigate the suspense, turmoil and challenges of this decade of reckoning.
And then..........
