Woodlot Woes

There’s a parcel of land between us and town that was recently sold and now has activity involving excavators and bulldozers. A woodlot occupying an acre or two came under attack and is no more.

I try to consider the motivation for such action.  Maybe the new owner felt a need to make his mark, provide evidence that the land was in new hands and is being improved.  Maybe he feels pressured to maximize profit after investing big bucks in good, tillable land.  I know nothing of him.  I’m sure he and I have things in common, things that would become obvious over some good craft beer, but I have a hunch we might differ in our attitudes towards land use.

Before wreaking havoc on the woodlot he probably considered existing timber value, but thought little of the probability of morel mushrooms or spring wildflowers.  There was probably a relatively thorough survey of mature tree species, but less than a casual glance at the understory.  There was unlikely an inventory of resident birds, an evaluation of habitat, or a value assigned to existing or potential sequestered carbon.  

Given the wooded tract was located on flat, well drained, productive soil, it seems reasonable to think it has never been cleared.  Ravaged by fire: probably, logged: yes, grazed: perhaps, but never mechanically cleared.  Good woodland converted to row crop agriculture is rarely abandoned.  The little woodlot conceivably had existed in one wild form or another for thousands of years.

Recent studies have shown convincing evidence of an amazing communication network in forest soils (and all soils, potentially).  The network is made up of mycelium, the vegetative part of fungus that appears as masses of tiny white filaments.  It’s long been understood that mycelium aids plants in nutrient absorption, but new data indicate it also allows communication between and among plants, and specific nutrients and carbon are shared as a result.  Stress is likewise communicated, so plants warn one another of potential threats and respond with appropriate defense mechanisms. When forests are logged by clearcutting, the functioning mycelium is broken down and the subsequent new generation of plants can be ravaged by disease and insects.  It’s not difficult to imagine the chaos inflicted to a soil network when bulldozers and soil conditioners enter the scene.

It’s just a side note of interest; I doubt a woodland has ever been spared out of respect for its soil mycelium.  But I wonder if the new owner would be at all impacted by our observing fewer birds over the decades as fencerows and woodlots have been cleared and habitats lost.  I wonder if there was a momentary pause to consider that only about 20 percent of Indiana’s original forests remain, that the value of woodlands has been dramatically elevated in light of climate change, or there might be some remnant of spiritual justification in just letting a piece of land be.

Recently our state senate passed a bill that withdrew protections of wetlands.  If the bill passes the house, farmers and developers can drain or fill sodden lowlands without permits in hand and without the burden of mitigating responsibilities.  The value of wetlands is solidly recognized, more so in recent years, and while they once covered 25 percent of Indiana’s land area, only four percent remain. Lawmakers nevertheless determined that private landowners will do the right thing with respect to wetland conservation without mandated guidelines.

There is widespread opposition to government regulation, but few would say we were better off when rivers caught fire, cities were choked with smog and bald eagles were endangered.  It appears we need guardrails to keep from destroying ourselves, or to destroy ourselves more slowly.  Some of us need a government scapegoat so we can save face and not look like a tree hugger or weirdo environmentalist while doing the right thing.  Most of us know, but might be slow to admit, that regulations often save us from ourselves, and in a democracy, policy reflects the preferences of society.  Or should.

Current regulations don’t forbid removal of most woodlots on private lands and ledgers don't include columns for songbirds, carbon storage or spiritual welfare.  There are no guardrails on this one.  For anyone owning woodland, the path is theirs to choose.