The restorative force of fire

It seems counter-intuitive, doesn't it? Using fire as a tool to improve the condition of natural areas.

Yet, through millenia of struggle between plants, animals, and the natural forces of wind, snow and fire, a system developed in this area where the trees that were best able to withstand the effects of fire came to dominate much of the landscape. And along with those trees came the plant, animal, bird & insect species that were most compatible with those trees.

Yes, I'm talking about our oaks.

Like sentinels, the bur oaks stretched their branches out across the prairie, catching the maximum amount of sunlight - growing broader than they were tall.

And the fires made that all possible.

McHenry County sits at the line between two ecoregional zones - the Grand Prairie and the Prairie-Forest Border. To the south, east and west of this area there once stretched a vast grassland where the buffalo roamed and fires once swept for miles and miles before hitting a natural barrier like a river.

To the north and west was once the prairie-forest border region where the prairie gave way to trees, but the trees did not form actual forests. Instead, the trees - often oaks - were widely dispersed, or found in clusters where they were sheltered from the prairie fires that came from the south and west. This is where the oak savannas were created, and where a unique system of insects and plants emerged that is now one of the most endangered natural communities on the plant.

In the absence of fire, today's oaks are crowded out by fast-growing, shade tolerant species like maples, buckthorn and honeysuckle.

So as odd as it seems, we try to burn the woods when conditions permit, as it is the easiest way to keep them in a healthy condition that supports a greater diversity of plant & animal species!

Why we plant oaks

The facts can seem overwhelming:

- Nearly 90% of the oak woods that were here in 1837 are gone.

- At the rate things are going, the remaining oaks could be dead in 20 years.

- It takes twenty years for an oak tree planted today to produce its first acorns.

- The remaining oaks are not reproducing either due to:
* improper management of the understory (e.g. allowing species like buckthorn to grow un-checked, or keeping a manicured lawn under the trees),

* effects of animals (e.g. deer browsing young trees, field mice eating acorns), or

* the effects of invasive species on the soil chemistry and the unique web of life needed by an oak's root system.

Yep, it is tough being an oak tree in McHenry County today.

And that's why we plant oaks whenever we can. On 10/10/10, that meant planting 100 oaks around McHenry County with the help of nearly 100 local residents. Those 100 trees will not replace the woods that are at risk today, but by working with local residents to plant trees today, we are teaching a next generation to take ownership for the future of these trees.

Since 2007, TLC has worked with nearly 1,000 local residents of all ages to plant over 1,000 oak trees. Those people can visit the trees they planted, and know that they are part of something bigger - something hopeful - something positive for the future.

It is too easy to get lost in the facts, and to feel overwhelmed, wondering "what can I do? It's hopeless! I can't change things!" But the fact is that every one of us has the ability to do something. Even just one thing, and that WILL make a difference.

Plant an oak. Clear some buckthorn from underneath an oak. Gather acorns in the fall and deliver them to TLC. Support organizations like TLC who are working to save the remaining oak woods, and to help ensure that future generations will have the opportunity to experience the magic and wonder of these magnificent trees -- just as we do today!

The fact is that there is time. These trees are still with us today - they have lasted long enough for us to learn what they need, and to take action.

Sharing Seed/Building Community

It is amazing how the simple act of collecting seed from someone's natural area can create a lasting bond - a bond that transcends friendship and crosses generations.

The seed donor points out the plants ripe for harvest, warning the collector away from the species that aren't native -- or are just too pushy(1) for a new planting.

The donor urges the collector to take more - there is plenty here, don't be timid - and even gathers seed that he places in the visitor's bag at the end of the outing. This act of generosity is moving in an unexpected way. Somehow, they are more than seeds now, for they represent hours of labor and a commitment to managing this natural area with fire and mowing and weed-pulling.

And the act of sharing seed passes not only the plant species from one place to another, but also the lessons of restoration from one person to the next, helping to ensure that the art and science of natural area management will spread throughout McHenry County along with the seeds...

The annual Seed Sharing Day in Alden Township took place on October 16th this year, bringing seed seekers together with seed sharers. As in years past, the 2010 event was a magical time when private landowners opened their properties to friends and strangers (with a stranger being a friend you don't know yet).

The event is a type of swap meet where those who have seed to contribute bring it along, and those who are seeking seed - either to enhance an existing project, or to seed a new area - are able to "shop" the seed table for species that will make their mix "just right".

Everyone brings along something to eat as well, which encourages people to stop long enough to have a bowl of chili or a few homemade cookies before heading home. And as they eat, they talk and share their experiences, lessons learned - good and bad. And the community grows stronger...

(1) Species like Indian grass and Big blue stem tend to top that list, as they grow well and spread quickly, making it difficult to establish other, less assertive, species!

*Thanks to Cheyenne Raduha for the photos.

What is Scenic about Fleming Road?

If you've driven on Fleming Road, you have probably thought "This is pretty" or words to that effect. But why do people react that way to some drives and not others?

The hills. The trees. The curves in the road. Trees close to the road. Trees overhanging the road way -- a canopy effect. It all contributes to a scenic driving experience.

A "peaceful and comforting ride" is how one friend describes her trip down Fleming. Another told me that when she is all stressed out, as soon as she turns onto Fleming, the stress melts away - it has that effect on her.

But there is a plan afoot to "improve" the road -- to make it safer -- by enlarging the shoulders to at least 4 feet, and by cutting some of the hills down. The work would also include a change in how water runoff is handled.

Currently, runoff goes wherever it can since there are not consistent swales along both sides of the road. That may sound bad, but actually, it seems to work okay. The runoff flows into the existing low spots along the roadsides and slowly infiltrates into the ground, or is absorbed by plant roots. Modern engineering "standards" say that proper road design means that one must build either large swales or curbs and absorption wells to handle the runoff.

And all that engineering comes at a price - it means widening the road way by nearly 30 feet, from the existing 22 feet of pavement, to at least 30 feet of pavement and up to another 28 feet of ditches. I'm sorry, but how is that an improvement? An improvement in what way?

Isn't it possible that the road way is okay the way it is? That it may not be perfect for everyone, but that in the grand scheme of things, it is a pretty darn good road, and any effort to bring it up to current engineering standards will not only reduce its beauty, but maybe even make it a more dangerous route for drivers?

Consider that the character of the roadway causes drivers to slow down - they slow down because the roadway is narrow, there are trees near the road, the curves and hills mean one cannot see much of the road ahead.

And that's okay.

Based on historic accident records, it appears that the current configuration of the road (with vegetation close to the pavement, hills that make it hard to see what's ahead, and lots of curves) is at least part of why accident rates are low.

Between 2005-2009 there were 38 accidents on Fleming Road. 32% (12) were collisions with deer; nearly all (87%+) of the accidents took place at one of the three intersections (Bull Valley Road, Country Club Road or Route 120). Drivers involved in the accidents were most likely to say that they didn't see the stop sign. 79% of the accidents were when the pavement was dry, and over half occurred during the day. There were no fatalities, one serious injury and six minor injuries.

The highway engineers who are studying Fleming Road right now say that there is only one spot along the road where visibility is a problem for people entering the road, and that is at Hidden Lane looking south. The solution, they said, would be to move a utility pole and trim some bushes. What that tells me is that the curves aren't causing a problem from a road design standpoint, neither is the vegetation close to the road.

So, maybe the buckthorn needs to be trimmed back here and there, but that's okay -- for many reasons. Apply a little Garlon 4 to the cut limbs, and help take care of them permanently!

Native Americans and the Land

Did you know that native people, for perhaps thousands of years before Europeans arrived on this continent, managed the land to make it more conducive to hunting? They lit fires to keep the brush down in the woods, and to keep the landscape around their encampments open for visibility, and safe from wildfires.

This painting by Frederic Remington, noted painter of the American west in the 1800s, shows Native people watching a grass fire that they set. This would be an image that Remington actually witnessed -- he wasn't one for painting from his imagination -- he liked to depict real people and real situations that he witnessed first hand. Kind of like an early newspaper photographer, but with a canvas and paint brushes.

An early settler's journal describes this place we live in today as looking like "apple orchards planted by the hand of God for the pleasure of man." The oak woods that early settlers found were open, easy to walk or ride a horse through. Today, one might say they were "park like."

This open and inviting scene was part natural (through spread of wildfires), but also partly human-made, through the use of controlled fires by Native peoples.

After European settlement of the region, wildfires were eliminated as were human-made fires. This permitted brush and less hardy trees (like maples and ash) to grow unhindered by fire.

The lesson I wanted to pass along is this thing we call "ecological fire" is not exactly new, and the landscape that our forefathers and mothers inherited when they moved to McHenry County was hardly untouched by human hands.

So, once again, the old becomes new, as we relearn the ways that many generations of Native people took for granted. Careful management of the land was good for game, safety and ultimately survival of those peoples.

Relearning these ancient lessons of how to tend the land in ways that promote sustainability for us and for nature can only benefit every member of the community.

Another Reason to Buy Local Food!

As if we needed another reason to purchase our food from local sources, along comes the Great American Egg Recall of 2010!

Billions of eggs potentially tainted with Salmonella bacteria, and thousands of people sick as a result.

The photos of the factory egg "farms" are too awful for me to include here -- chickens packed in cages, stacked on top of one another in conditions that should be criminal. And why? Because Americans want cheap eggs. Lots of cheap eggs. At the rate of 150 (or more) eggs per person, per year, that adds up to nearly 50 billions eggs a year - and that's just the ones folks buy in cartons -- add in all the eggs that are used as an ingredient in the foods we buy, and we are looking at closer to 75 billion eggs consumed each year in the US!

At a price of about $1.00 per dozen, we are talking about at least $4 billion in egg sales each year.

There is an alternative, you know. Yep, more folks could buy their eggs from local farmers.

My husband and I pay $2.50 a dozen for eggs from a family near Harvard, IL. The eggs are fresh, delicious, and safe. The chickens that lay the eggs seem to live happy lives -- at least they appear content running around in the farmyard when I go there to pick up the eggs. And a bonus is that the yolks are a gorgeous shade of deep yellow, not the insipid pale yellow of factory eggs.

The family raises the chickens to sell them as, well, chickens, later after they are good and fat. But the chickens have this pesky habit of laying eggs until they are sent off to be butchered, so the family also collects and sells the eggs.

Fresh eggs have an advantage that factory eggs lack -- they haven't been washed, so they still have the "bloom" intact on the surface of the egg shell. This "bloom" protects the otherwise porous surface of the egg, preventing bacteria from entering the egg.

As a result, fresh eggs can be stored at room temperature, and in Europe, that is how they are sold and kept.

Factory eggs in the US are washed after being collected to remove any surface dirt and bacteria -- which is actually part of the reason for the Great Egg Recall of 2010 -- even trace amounts of bacteria can entered the washed eggs, and once inside, salmonella does not take much time to multiply into enough bacteria cells to make someone sick.

So, remember that next time you buy eggs at the grocery store. Ask around, I bet you can find a local farm that sells fresh eggs -- and I bet you'll agree that they are worth every penny!

What's a Scenic Road?

It may be safe to say that "scenic" is in the eye of the beholder. One person's scenic drive may be tedious to another who just wants to get from point A to point B as quickly as possible, and is annoyed by the hills, slower speed limits, curves and trees close to the road.

I love driving through the county's gently rolling farm fields, but know people who think this area is too flat and the farm fields are b o r i n g.

Whether one likes scenic vistas of farmfields, or curvy, hilly routes that cross through examples of the county's glacial remants (moraines, kettles, kames and outwash plains), there are many scenic driving experiences to be had in McHenry County.

For example, I think most any road through Bull Valley is scenic, with their windey turns and hills, plus the trees overhanging the road and the farm fields stretching across the rolling hills.

O'Brien Road (that turns into Vander Karr Road as one heads east) is one of my favorites. It crosses through farm fields, past conservation land, and over the Nippersink Creek in the north part of the county between Alden and Richmond.

Thayer Road is another of my faves, going from Alden Road in the west to Greenwood Road in the east, passing farm fields, oak woods, and crossing at least one branch of the Nippersink Creek. I find the vistas across farm fields along Thayer amazing. The view is fairly flat and most trees are in the distance, so they don't block the view. I'd like to explore some of the isolated woodlands out there sometime -- they seem so remote and mysterious!

In the middle part of the county, there is Collins Road running west from Woodstock across the flat, outwash plain that sits between the Woodstock and Marengo moraines. The road starts out straight and level, with beautiful views of an agricultural landscape. As Collins hits the Marengo Ridge glacial moraine, the character of the road is transformed into a hilly, wooded route - the vistas are gone, and trees are the norm.

Then there is Fleming Road, a 2 1/2 mile route that runs from Country Club Road at its south end northwest to Route 120 east of Woodstock. In that short stretch of road, one passes visible examples of the county's "swell and swale" glacial terrain, complete with kettles and hills that were left behind when the Wisconsin glacier retreated 12,000 years ago. Additionally, the road passes through perhaps the largest concentration of remnant oak woods in the county.

Scenic may be in the eyes of the beholder, but I'm sure glad for the scenery around McHenry County that I get to behold!