Rx Fire: Good & Life-Giving

Like a whistling-jake firework on the 4th of July, hardwood saplings are popping open all around me, their cambium layer sizzling to its end.  The sound of one life as it burns back into the ground from which it came, like a raging whistle of hope for another.  The snapping and crackling of the fire as it consumes a myriad of forest fuels like music to my ears.  I know what’s coming in the wake of the fire.

A forest understory dominated by death and decay will soon be dominated by life and living.  Seeds of all sorts that are no longer suppressed will take root – smothered no more, they can breath and grow – the fire that carefully moved through here only borrowing the oxygen of this microclimate for a short while. Unlike a wildfire that rages out of control, killing most of the organisms in its path, prescribed fire is calculated, meticulous.  Like the waves of American troops that stormed the beaches of Normandy, prescribed fire has specific targets: Hardwood competition like Red Maple and Sweetgum, Pine Litter and Logging Slash – things that serve as the enemy to the fruitfulness of a specific portion of an ecosystem – In this case, the understory of Loblolly Pine.

Prescribed Fire is to the understory of man’s forests what coffee is to his body – a concentrated burst of energy.  The contrast of the blackness caused by that energy when set aside the green that rushes into place soon thereafter, as different as night and day.  The positive shockwaves sent crackling through a forest following a fire, measurable on many levels. The effervescent spark that prescribed fire is to a plot of land passes onward to the wildlife populations that call that land home. Wild turkey immediately scratch through burned areas munching on worms and bugs that flock to and over the more exposed surface, pecking up grubs that might have been cooked nice and crispy like country fried venison.  Within days of a burn, White-tailed deer are presented with a diverse food plot that has been literally burned into existence.  Bob-White Quail find refuge in the thickets that are sometimes left un-charred by the fire, patches we call them.  I find refuge in knowing that what we’re doing here is good on a multitude of levels – from ecologically to spiritually, a difference is being made.

As I drive around the last compartment, the last sub-section of forest that we’ve set ablaze, my mind wanders forward to turkey season.  I wonder what hunting memories will take shape in these woods come April.  I think of the kindness of the landowner for affording me the privilege to carry out this prescription – nostalgic almost when considering the course of events that led me here to this sacred place, watching a fire burn into itself as the sun withers away in the western sky.  Like the deer and turkey that have gotten accustomed to the regimen of fire we’ve implemented here, I’ve been waiting for this moment.  As much as these flames have breathed life back into this forest, they’ve also breathed life back into me, further inspiring me to be the best steward I can be.

Featured Photo Credit – Chance Curnutte