forest stories
This new column is dedicated to the special relationships we have with the forests around us . You are invited to share yours with PLENTY readers .
ode to my forest
BY GINNY BARNES
It is my good fortune to live in a forest . I put roots down in this woodland for the love of a wonderful man over 40 years ago . He grew up here . Together we watched it grow and I have grown with it . Actually I live in a portion of a special kind of forest called a riparian corridor along Watts Branch that eventually winds its way downstream to join the Potomac River . Our log cabin home sits up on a slope in a small valley known as the Glen . Once a grain mill stood beside the road just downstream of a one lane bridge , turning corn and wheat into grain hauled by horse drawn wagons to market . All the roads leading into and out of the Glen bear names associated with that mill or the Glen itself . Beginning as Indian trails , they are now part of a network of rustic roads .
My forest is relatively new . At the end of the 19th century , much of Montgomery County was still farmland . Crop fields and pasture were more common than forest along streams and rivers . There was a store in the Glen where nearby residents bought or bartered for goods from nails to oranges . It also served as a post office . Nearby was the Glen Mill dam and on Sundays local people came to fish , swim and picnic . Eventually , farming declined ; adventurous city dwellers came to buy land and raise families in the country . The stream side forest began to mature and expand .
Now , the trees around me are large with spreading canopies , shading the stream and providing habitat for all sorts of wildlife . Much of the corridor along Watts Branch is now protected as parkland . This linear forest has changed radically over the years . While many trees have grown into mature specimens , others have been lost to weather , insect pests , deer browse and clearing for development . The understory , once rich in native plants such as Trout Lily , Jewelweed and Mayapple has given way to exotic invasives like stiltgrass and lesser celandine . Nevertheless , the forest remains invaluable to the stream and to us . Water quality depends on shade and cooling provided by tree canopy . Tree roots hold banks , lessening erosion . Our streams are the source of public drinking water and each contributes to the health of the Chesapeake Bay .
Knowledge about ecological benefits of trees has come too late for most of the ancient forests once common to the East Coast . Our human hunger for wood felled them long ago and our continued need for it has defined forests as a commodity resource . But those left alone are in the process of becoming ancient . The second growth forest I live in has young and medium size trees but also grandparent trees large enough to take several people holding hands around them to gauge their girth . These trees deserve to live out their lives as the venerable beings they truly are .
My forest is an inspiration at all times of year , in all weather , any time of day . Because our log home is well above the stream , it feels like living in a tree house . The small screened back porch looks onto a sea of trees like the prow of a ship . From it I have a view into the middle height of their trunks . Down below , the stream is a highway for so many species of wildlife . I frequently see herons and kingfishers skimming above shade dappled water . On summer nights , spontaneous concerts of wood thrush song fill the Glen . I
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