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Monday, May 23, 2016

Changing Landscapes---Revolution Watch---Almost

Changing  Landscapes

Tucked away in drawers of antiquity, or hidden in Historical Society’s files or maybe on the Bank’s calendars are photographs from over a hundred years ago. While many are interesting from a historical point of view, others are fascinating because inadvertently they show the state of the surrounding environment---or what was left of it.

Mostly, we marvel at old photographs showing various activities of farming,  seriously posing baseball teams, dandy community parades and small town participants hoisting a pint at the local saloon. Of course, the tendency is to focus on the human activities without taking notice that the back ground setting is frequently treeless. There were no trees. It seems that by 1900 or so almost all of the trees in this area had been cut down either for fuel, lumber or to clear the land for farming.


Each time I see these treeless landscapes it makes me wonder what it was really like prior to white man’s arrival, say, when the only human occupation was that of the Native Americans. It is not too difficult to find out, either from much earlier photographs, historical records or interestingly, from pollen analysis. It would appear, this particular area was fairly heavily forested with some settings of Oak openings and tall grass prairies. The forests were deciduous, composed of oaks, maples and other hardwoods. To the north progressively there were more and more coniferous forests intermixed with the hardwoods.

While it may seem the white men were the only inhabitants to alter the local landscape, it is also true the native Americans were also manipulating it with the use of fire. Of course, nature itself provides plenty of fire with lightening strikes. The point is, prior to our arrival, the local landscape was noticeably different than it was in 1880 to 1900 when most of the photos were taken. There were more trees and more tall grass prairies and no cultivation to speak of.

With the arrival of farming and logging, the landscape shifted to what the old photographs clearly demonstrate. The land was simply barren of what was once the natural environment. Every inch of land was being used to farm with only a few remaining woodlots and almost no prairies.

I also know from my own father’s stories that in his youthful years there were almost no whitetail deer remaining in the area as they simply ran out of habitat, implying that with the loss of the natural vegetation the animal life also went the way of the wolf---mostly gone.

Most interestingly, at the same time one looks at the photographs noting the disappearance of the natural world, it becomes obvious the barren landscapes of 1900 are now tree-filled  and lush with vegetation. In other words, at some point in time the act of clearing every inch of land, and cutting every tree came to a halt. Thinking back to my own childhood, I remember fields of crops on almost every square inch along the rivers and lakes I traveled. Now many of those fields have been abandoned and are filled with fifty-year old trees of many species. Starting in the thirties, I suspect, many of the poorer farms began to fail and the land was left to fend for itself.

I remember also that many dairyman would turn their cattle loose on the land that was not suitable for tilling. While this terrain was not farmable, it could provide meager forage for cattle and in the process virtually every native plant was either eaten or trampled. At some point this woodland grazing was ended and the few remaining forests were given an opportunity to begin the long process of recovery. The point being, there is now a change going on, slow as it may be, of a recovery in the natural environment possibly moving back to a time  prior to our arrival.

The story seems to say that due in part to the failure of some of human activities, for example  marginal farming and logging, the natural world is creeping back in some locales. It has always been fascinating to walk though a fairly old forest and find miles of old stone fences that clearly once were containment for cattle and plowed fields. On some of the ground I now hunt, one would think this was a wild place, almost never touched by man but the telltale fences are everywhere. The kicker came when I saw a 75 year old photo of the same farm completely void of all trees---and most everything else.

In the portion of the farm where there are two-hundred year old oaks, to this day there are no spring ephemerals, and very few of the native flowers that were once in abundance in what probably was an oak opening. The reason being over fifty years ago this forest was still being grazed. In that fifty years it has still not recovered---and it might take another hundred to do so. Interestingly, in the ditches surrounding the farm, some of the native plants are beginning to thrive having never been subjected to grazing.

The point of this conversation is to make note of how our environment has changed due to shifting aspects of human behavior. Farming, and logging,  have in some areas simply failed to be productive and the plants and fauna of old have crept back in giving us a richer environment filled with a greater population of deer, turkeys and a multitude of wild plants. Obviously, this is not happening everywhere but here and there we see Trilliums, Big Blue Stem Grass, Switch grass, Blood Root, Cup Plants and many more.  Fortunately, the devastation that was committed in this country was only done for one hundred years and here and there remnants remained which could be used for reintroduction---unlike many places in the world where thousands of years of aggressive abuse and overpopulation of humans have completely removed the entire natural world. We are fortunate.










The Unexpected Calling Card

I know that some individuals will think that the subject of this column will have some metaphorical implications, that is, it may reflect on the voracity of some of the things I have written about. I will admit that I have approached many diverse topics, some being out there a touch but this one, while having certain olfactory tones is for real and confirmable by close observation. Here is the truth. Just today my wife of almost fifty years stepped into our very small forest we have in the back of our garden. Her task was to water a May Apple that is growing there trying to be a spectacular spring ephemeral. In her struggle to find the plant known to be growing in the maple sapling-surrounded duff, she approached a huge White Pine. She came to an abrupt stop, looking down in disbelief, for there on the leaf-covered floor was a large deposit, shall we say calling card, of an animal of considerable size. 
“David”, she yells. “You won’t believe what I think I see. I don’t believe it. This is incredible”. Initially, I though she had found a huge nest of Deer Ticks because just the day before she had, indeed, found a Deer Tick and it was attached to a part of her anatomy that we cannot really discuss here. Embarrassingly (no pun), it was on her back side and had to be removed---by me. No, she did not find a tick nest. Not another Fox Snake because that would have elicited a bigger yell. Most interestingly, she stumbled upon a very large, very black, seed filled pile of she-she, better known in scientific terms as a turd (recall the opening statement). She was apprehensive, maybe repulsed, possibly racked with retro-fear, but noticeably amused. It was as if the not-to-old, but not steaming pile, might jump up and attach itself to her. We looked closely having seen numerous turds in our lives, both metaphorical and real, so that we might be able to determine the nature of the depositor. We looked at each other, remembering our years on the ranch, and both, with eyes wide, said Bear----and not a little one. While we did not run our fingers through it as if doing a forensic analysis, nor fondle it noting content and age, nor sniff it, there was little doubt. We had a Bear turd pile of some magnitude. We were both thinking we lived in very civil community with highly trained public servants managing the village greens and its wildlife---mostly squirrels and rabbits. It is cosmopolitan and almost like a city with a fire department, village trucks with logos on them. The citizens have things like TVs and cellular phones. So how can it be we have a Black Bear living among us? We were confused so it was off to Merlyn’s to see if her “talking” dog had had any unusual experiences in the last ten days (I had determined the calling card was at least a week old due to the dryness of the outer edges of the deposit---this close examination that did not involve smelling or tasting). Savanna, the semi-literate dog, is attentive and will on many occasions bark in the middle of the night when she thinks lurking criminals are about, or more commonly, if a mouse runs across the road. One would figure if the lousy dog was worth its salt, if a four hundred pound bear walked right by her house, there would have been a ruckus---the aforementioned spectacular turd was only twenty five feet from Merlyn’s house. In making my inquiry, I did not mention our suspicions wanting to test my theory. It turns out a few days earlier and in the appropriate time range, Savanna had an uncomfortable experience. In the middle of the night the protective mutt began to bark and bark. Low and behold, in the morning there on the floor of the house, was a fresh calling card left by the dog---an unwanted pile never left before. The dog had indeed detected the presence of the bruin, and probably thinking it was a Grizzly Bear, literally soiled herself. Merlyn seemed relieved, maybe even proud, for rather than the dog just becoming senile, it had simply been emotionally overwhelmed---and saved the day, chasing off the blood-thirsty bear. If the canine could really talk, I am sure she would have said, “I smelled this God-awful stench, looked out the window and there looking back at me, only inches away, was this grinning mouthful of teeth. Man, I lost control. Sorry about the little mess”. After thinking this all through, we had to come to the realization that even though we do live in this highly sophisticated community where we are all safe, surrounded by citizens well above average and mostly, like myself, very attractive, we are still not so citified, or gentrified that wild nature cannot just pass through town largely unnoticed. My only concern, and it has nothing to do with our highly skilled police force, (oh, we don’t have one) will not be able to protect us, but if some of the citizens should happen to see a Black Bear in the backyard, number one, they don’t shoot it, or probably more importantly, don’t follow Savanna’s example and leave a calling card on the floor or in one’s trousers. We closed the door more carefully, locked the garbage in the garage and removed the half-eaten burger from the car. Again I will say, although I have been know to enhance, I do hope this topic has no symbolic connotations as to my truthfulness-------nor any indication of what the Packers have to deal with this year.