Raining bark

January 22 11:15am 63F, cloudy

According to Bryan MacKay in A Year Across Maryland, we're in the middle of what is historically the coldest 10 days of the year. He also describes what he calls a "January thaw" in which temperature rise for a few days. That's been the case for several days now. Given that temperatures are >20F warmer than normal, I expected to see even more activity than my last visit. I've noted some birds (a red bellied woodpecker & two Hairys, I think) but although I hear more, most remain hidden from view. I expected to see some insects about but have only seen a small fly. Perhaps they're all smarter than I give them credit for and they're not fooled by this temporary thermal coaxing. Watching for activity, my stool slowly sinks into the soft ground and I eventually unzip my coat.

As I sit facing the creek, it started to sound like raindrops behind me but I suspect that there are birds making there way through the tulip tree canopies, knocking off old flowers perhaps. I look up, searching for the culprits, and notice evidence of woodpecker activity in a few trees, including the one directly behind me. I take a close look and suspect that this is a white ash (Fraxinus americana) and that the woodpeckers are after non-native, invasive emerald ash borer (EAB, Agrilus planipennis) larvae. I'm no botanical expert and certainly not in winter, but this tree has ash's characteristic diamond bark patterns, large buds common of compound-leafed trees, and opposite branching. Now that I look closer at the surrounding trees, it appears as if there might be several ash around my floodplain mandala, and all exhibit woodpecker damage. I find the guilty woodpecker high on the bole above me and am able to catch bark that it is discarding. I have not noticed signs of EAB on campus before today, though it is spreading through the region. Woodpecker activity, like I see above, is often the first evidence of EAB-infested trees. Somehow woodpeckers know that the larvae are below the bark, girdling the trees, and go after them for a meal. Before long, the tree will provide additional evidence, like epicormic shoots ("last ditch efforts" to survive) and canopy dieback. Eventually, the tree will die. Compared to other forests, especially those in the Great Lakes region, we are fairly lucky in that EAB will represent a fairly diffuse forest disturbance. In Mid-Atlantic forests, it is rare that Fraxinus is dominant but usually only in limited numbers in a given stand. That's the case here where oaks and tulips are much more common, but the loss of trees still represents a noticeable loss of canopy with consequences to the forest ecosystem.

I wonder if this project might turn out to be more meditative in nature than I anticipated. It's early, only my second visit, but the forest isn't giving my untrained senses much to follow today. That's Ok, I'm sure some days will be much busier. And even on days like today, I know there's something good for the soul to sit still here, beside my stream, under my trees. After last week's meetings and the start of the semester today, some quiet time here is good. Except that it really isn't quiet. I like the sounds of the stream, birds but it isn't enough to mask the constant reminders of human development in close proximity - the construction noise, occasional voices from the bridge, jets flying over, a church's noon time bells, the constant din of traffic, of fossil fuel powered motion. I'm worried for my forest. We recently lost about 7 acres of forest on campus. The master plan shows a new road connecting properties on either side of the my forest. There's flagging of 6 different colors throughout as well. Seems that there are plans for this forest.