Author: Kali McGown

As we all dispersed into the forest to make our observations, it was easy to forget that there were other people around. The sound of the water rushing by, visible only between gaps in the sheet of ice covering the river, drowns out any other sounds. The layer of snow covering the dead grasses, rocks, and leaf litter on the ground also seems to absorb the sounds. Beside me lays a bridge that allows humans to cross the river with ease. I wonder if other animals, that would otherwise be unable to cross the river, use this bridge to explore new parts of the forest.

Around me there is a mix of old and young hemlocks (Tsuga canadensis) with a few ash (Fraxinus americana) growing, as well. The branches of these trees are coated in a layer of ice after a recent storm. While these trees have developed strategies to withstand such harsh conditions during the winter, the ice can make it difficult for birds or squirrels to access the food they need to obtain from the trees. The severe differences between the seasons in New England make it difficult for trees and animals to survive in the range of conditions they are confronted with here. With climate change affecting these annual variations, conserving these forests and the species within them will be even more difficult.

I notice that the trees growing along the uphill side of the river do not grow straight up, but curve outward over the river below before reaching up towards the sun. From the time a seed is in the ground, it must be aware of which direction the surface is, and once above ground, the tree must grow toward the sunlight. The path to sunlight may not always be direct, which is the case here where the river creates a gap, letting in large amounts of sunlight for the trees just beyond where they rest in the ground. The curve of the trunks here is a reminder that even when conditions in the forest are not favorable, plants find ways to make it work.

On another unseasonably warm day, I traveled to a different part of the TAM and was met by similar species as in other sections I have walked through. I am surrounded by young American Beech (Fagus grandifolia) and sugar maple (Acer saccharum) trees that form a thick understory that reaches only a few feet above my head. Among the young trees, however, stands an older White pine (Pinus strobus). This discrepancy among the age of the trees is the result of previous disturbances to the forest. In this case, where there is one older tree surrounded by new growth, it is likely that this land was previously used as a pasture, but the pine tree was spared being cut in order to provide shade for the animals. The seeds of nearby forests found elsewhere on the TAM likely traveled to this area and have only recently been able to grow once the land was no longer maintained as a pasture. It will be interesting to see how this land evolves over time in comparison to the adjacent forest.

While I do not witness any living animals, I do hear crows (Corvus sp.) in the distance. I also find some white feathers scattered on the ground, possibly from a woodpecker (Picoides sp.). Trees are not the only organisms in the forest that are affected by human interference. Hunting and the loss of habitat can greatly reduce populations of animals that reside in forest habitats. Birds are more fortunate than trees, however, because they are able to move to a new location when confronted with dangers or changes to the conditions in which they live. When development affects their habitat, birds can migrate to new lands. Trees, on the other hand, can only spread their seeds so far, and there is no guarantee that they will even be able to take root in another location. Trees must learn to adapt to conditions while standing in one place. Humans do not make it easier for trees by continuously contributing to forest disturbances.

As I walk in to the forest on this gray day, not only do I feel the protection against the wind, but also the lack of sun beneath the canopy. It is an interesting sensation to stand among the saplings who are waiting for their opportunity to receive sunlight. I wonder how long it will take them to reach the height of the canopy meters above me when there is so little light available on days like to day. The shade-tolerant maple trees (Acer spp.) are able to utilize every bit of sun that manages to pass through to the understory, and patiently wait their turn to grow.

Their time may be closer than it seemed last week as there is a group of trees that have fallen over, leaving a gap for these saplings to receive direct sunlight. The trees that have fallen were a mix of white pine (Pinus strobus) and sugar maple (Acer saccharum). While above the ground these trees are distinct from one another, their roots that have been pulled out of the ground are in a large tangle and it is impossible to discern which root belongs to which tree. These trees will now provide habitat for fungi, insects, and other organisms. Over time, these fallen trees will decompose and give their nutrients back to the soil and to the saplings who will take their place in the canopy.

The cause of this disturbance was likely the recent fluctuations in temperature that caused the ground to freeze and collect snow, which subsequently melted, leaving the ground soft and full of pools of water at the base of these trees. These unexpected changes in temperature can cause trees to begin opening their leaves and buds, which should occur in the spring, prematurely. Fortunately, the trees will also take into consideration the day length so that they can accurately predict the arrival of spring. So long as more trees do not succumb to the inconsistent weather, the challenges of freezing and thawing temperatures will make this a good year for maple syrup production.

My walk to the forest on the edge of campus was cold with strong winds adding to the chill. As soon as I stepped into the forest however, the trees protected not only me, but also the birds singing above and the eastern grey squirrels (Sciurus carolinensis) climbing the trees from the cold. With the wind gone, I could hear red-bellied woodpeckers (Melanerpes carolinus) searching for food in trees, and the rustle of tree limbs high above me that were still experiencing the winds.

The mixture of deciduous and evergreen trees of this forest demonstrates the many methods plants have developed to survive the winters of Vermont. The diversity of species present creates a forest that appears different every time I visit, with pine trees (Pinus spp.) and mosses (Huperzia lucidula) providing the only green today and throughout the winter.

As I stood on the trail, I was surprised to see a drastic difference between the trees immediately next to me and those further in.  Along the trail there were mainly short American beech (Fagus grandifolia) and red maple (Acer rubrum) trees that formed a dense understory, while a few meters in, there was a thick canopy made of white pines (Pinus strobus) and hickories (Carya spp.). Even though the path is meant to bring people to the forest with minimal impact, the trail has obviously resulted in changes to the forest. These trails act as a form of disturbance, and maintenance of the trail, such as a tree on the edge of the path, presumably cut down to keep the trail clear, prevents the forest from ever filling in this manmade gap. I realize I am most likely stepping on roots of the nearby trees and trampling their seeds. The trees will continue to try to utilize the gap, but humans will fight back to have our own path through the forest. To finish my time among the trees I look to the pines as they are the least disturbed part of this forest, and consider how I can lessen my negative effects on the forest community around me.