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February 15, 2007  Beetlemania Sweeps The Fab Forest Where were you when the pine beetles invaded? I think I was in the yard pouring birdseed from a bag into a bucket, or maybe I was admiring the irises I rescued from the dump. Or it might even have been the day I stood and contemplated the cairn of rocks marking the end of my interest in flint napping. Maybe it was the day I replaced the pole holding the house number sign (the one with the drawing of the Tern) my response to a friend who said she could never see my turn when she came for a visit. Yes, it could have been any of those days because, let’s admit it, a pine beetle, even a hundred pine beetles, could have flown past my nose without me noticing. But visit they did! And because of their invisibility, it was long after the pine beetles left that the effect of their handiwork was noticed. In the yard, all the mature pines turned orange, followed next year by a die-off of many of the younger trees. By then we were awake and all the alarm bells were ringing. It was time to fight the pine beetles! But where were they? Oh, they’ve gone. So what then? Well we could make a salvage plan. We could assess the economic impact of the loss of timber represented by the sudden glut of dead pines. Essentially we could sweep up after the party. I assuaged any sense of violation by going into the yard and making note of the fact that aside from the dead trunks soaring into the sky the yard was still very green. And making up a lot of this green-ness were at least a hundred pines of various ages jostling for limb room on the acreage. From seedlings to trees that I estimate to be 35 years old, the species pinus contorta were still well represented on the property. In the wake of what is now called the pine beetle epidemic, various interests began compiling data and feedback from various groups and agencies to add to a growing pile of information. This information, they said, would be useful for future decision-making. I was contacted about a week ago by one of these groups. My anecdotal input was sought with respect to the affects the pine beetle epidemic might have on birds - and we all become a little puffed up with pride at the thought that our information might be of use to others. So I began recollecting the past few years of birding in the blighted forest. The first thing I recalled was an overcast day several years ago. I was walking just east of 100 Mile House. The snow was knee-deep and I trudged across a forested area. All the large pines in that area had turned a glowing orange, an indication that they had succumbed to the pine beetle attack. As I walked I heard the telltale scratching on bark which indicates a Woodpecker working on a tree trunk. I stopped and peered into the limbs searching for the maker of the noise. As I hoped, it was a Three-toed Woodpecker, a bird I never get tired of encountering. This one was male with a yellow butter pat on the cap of its head. This was the first time I’d seen a Three-toed on something other than a spruce tree. I watched the Woodpecker chip at the pine bark and heard a similar scratching coming from my left. I hoisted my binoculars and was surprised to see another three-toed Woodpecker in a nearby dead pine. Then I heard more scratching coming from behind me. A quick inventory of all the scratching birds yielded four Three-toed Woodpeckers on four dead pines all contentedly searching the bark for food. Until now I had never seen more than one Three-toed Woodpecker at a time. And now, the species I associated with spruce trees was chipping away at pines. It was a very memorable day. From this encounter I deduced the glut of dead pines had a beneficial effect on birds feeding on dead trees. Unfortunately, shortly afterwards the four trees were logged and the feeding opportunities were lost. This seemed to begin an epidemic of dead pine tree logging. In yards, along roadsides and on large and small tracts of land, trees in ones and twos and whole forest’s fell to the axe. The landscape underwent a radical makeover and in some cases the cleansing took more than just dead pine trees. Some of the places I once enjoyed visiting for bird watching were not immune. One such place is the 101 marsh, a spot that on first glance doesn’t seem all that appealing. However, I’m attracted by the fence, which keeps cattle out and encloses a typical Cariboo Parkland pond. Here waterfowl and many other species of birds nest and gather in undisturbed habitat. On the west side was a thin cover of poplar, sapling, and a few pine trees. This cover provided shade and attracted an interesting array of songbirds that hung out and in some cases nested. Unfortunately the few pines in the enclosure died. And in the process of logging the land on all three sides of 101 marsh, a tree-cutting tracked vehicle rolled into the fenced enclosure and took the dead pines leaving in its wake a stack of debris and mangled saplings. A large burn pile was set ablaze some time later. Gone was the little glade that was so appealing to the birds. The fence that kept out the cattle was no match for humans. It was as if the rush to remove any dead pine had obliterated the notion of preserving wildlife trees or any other natural consideration. Partly to blame for this harvesting hysteria was the misconception that somehow the dead trees harbored the next wave of pine beetles. Such was not the case. The bugs departed the trees long before the trees expired and turned red. Similarly, a lone pine along Horse Lake Road served as a perch for over-wintering Bald Eagles, but was quickly felled when it turned brown. People who once drove past and enjoyed the sight of these large birds were suddenly denied the pleasure, and the Eagles moved away. Somehow the question of “what effect the pine beetle has on birds” must also contain a component addressing the “what effect the human response to the pine beetle has on birds.” I think these so-called epidemics are part of the process of a changing order in the forests, one possibly outside the scope of our human-centric focus. The impact can of course be studied but in the end I think we are just going through the motions. Luckily humans are adaptable. Given time we could probably squeeze a living from wherever we stand even if our forests become deserts. The same cannot be said of specialized species whose only response to radical change is often extinction. I’ve probably said enough. Now I’ll go outside and watch the Chickadees in their endless games of chasing each other up and down their favourite dead pine. But don’t let my seeming nonchalance fool you; those pesky pine beetles may have slipped right past me but I won’t get fooled again. I am now going to interrogate every flying bug I see. Who knows? I might stop the next great blight before it has a chance to threaten our idyllic wilderness lifestyle. To e-mail Tom CLICK HERE To look at previous column CLICK HERE |
