Charred forests give way to new growth – Text & Photographs by L. A. Lewin
Traveling north from Grand Teton National Park our SUV entered the south entrance of Yellowstone National Park around noon. Our first destination was Old Faithful 20 miles ahead. But, as we continued north, my wife and I were taken aback when we saw the burned landscape. We were in shock - in awe - by the vastness the burned forest stretched.
Burned, and bare, fallen trees lay like pick-up-sticks stretching as far as the eye can see. Thinned, the hollowed terrain of burned and dried timber was sketched on either side of the road. Standing naked, some trees still charred - a reminder of the firestorm that ravaged this area – while others colored charcoal grey glistened with a silvery tint in the midday sun.
Figure 1 Scorched landscape – Copyright L. A. Lewin 2012
I researched Yellowstone National Park archives to obtain details on the events that caused this devastation - here’s what I found: Unless serious damage to property or eminent danger to people is present, most fires are left alone to burn themselves out – allowing nature to dictate terms. However, in the summer of 1988 – later recorded as the driest summer in history for the region – 248 fires ravaged Yellow Stone, (50 were inside the park), engaging hundreds of fire fighters, and an army of overhead tankers spraying water and fire retardants to snuff flames and regain control. But, not until the first snow began to fall, was the last smoldering limb extinguished. Inside the park the fires consumed 793,000 acres and 3 million dollars in lost property!
The 1988 Yellow Stone National Park fires brought national attention to fire management guidelines and by 1992 an updated fire management plan was adapted with stricter rules governing how naturally occurring fires are allowed to burn.
Figure 2 Wild flowers and pine reemerging Copyright L. A. Lewin 2012
When we stopped our SUV, so I could walk the area and capture photographs, closer inspection revealed life was coming back – slowly – but nature was doing its thing.
Among the hundred of new lodgepole pines rising up from the scorched soil, wild flowers colored in between the straight lines of the felled trees, embellishing an otherwise colorless landscape. And the ground hugging sagebrush scattered everywhere, filling the air with a sweet scent.
It may take decades before the hills and valleys are covered under a thick, lush canopy, but the resurgence of life has begun.