In The Spirit of Nature

Entering the trail is entering stillness. Yes, there are gentle stirring sounds here and there, scurrying chipmunks and pecking woodpeckers, but even with gurgling streams or the chirping birds, there’s an all pervasive, deep silence in the woods.

After the hike, I cracked open a book on the Natural History of British Columbia by Cannings and Cannings (1996). I jotted down a few notes and synthesized them into this post. So, instead of citing the book over and over, I will just let you know that the knowledge presented here was gleaned from that tome. Any silly remarks are entirely mine, so without further ado, let's get this show on the road!

Centuries ago, the city was but an arboreal skyline that towered 100 metres up in the air with swaying giants, some of whom had been around for millenia.

The air was fresh, invigorating, blowing in a strong breeze from the nearby Pacific ocean. I can't believe I spent four years living right next to this tract of protected old growth forest and had no idea it was even there. I will avoid mentioning the exact location because these areas are sensitive, and I'd rather not contribute to the mayhem.

For a forest to be considered old growth, it should be around 250 years of age. The coastal environment of BC with its constant heavy rains creates a moist world ideal for large trees and other rainforest species.

Moss and lichen drape trees, stumps, and logs, neatly accumulated over the years, centuries even, in the humid and temperate micro-climate of the forest canopy and below. Coincidently, I came across an article from Popular Mechanics indicating that moss colonies have secret electro-communication somewhat analogous to a giant brain, which puts things into perspective.

Young forests tend to be monotonous because the similar-sized trees make it difficult for light to filter consistently through the canopy and provide sustenance for smaller trees and plants. So, the area below them is usually devoid of plants and trees.

As the forest grows older, some trees fall and leave gaps that allow sunlight to filter through the canopy. This creates a more biodiverse environment because other tree species and shrubs can grow in those open spaces.

This new growth provides shelter and nutritious resources for animals (e.g., owls, squirrels, bumble bees, etc) that move into those areas that were previously bare and devoid plant life.

As the trail meandered over the hilly terrain, it unveiled varied and wondrous ecological realms, draped in a tapestry of shadow and light.

There were fallen trees along the trail, brought down by natural processes while others had been cut by park management for safety and restoration. From what I read, a log in the forest can be recognized as such even after a century, providing resources for plants and animals while it slowly disintegrates into the soil. Nature is so poetic in its own way.

It was a warm sunny day. We're in the middle of summer, and the fire situation is precarious. There have been a few fires this season, so the warnings were everywhere along the trail.

I came across a few people hiking the trail, but overall it was fairly quiet.

Some wily species prefer to go to the supermarket to acquire nutrients

The age of an old growth forest can be evident from the lichen that cling to the trees, as well as on the lower spots where sunlight falls and breezes blow through the underbrush.

The quantity of lichen on canopies begins ramping up when the forest reaches an age of about 150 then peaks at 350 years of age. These lichen provide nutrients such as nitrates for species that inhabit the forest. And of those, there are many, thousands of them live up in the canopy, away from the prying eyes and nibbling mouths of ground predators.

Fungi love the moist environment of the rainforest. They grow on trees, logs, stumps, and so on. Others, like truffles, do their thing underground. Little furry creatures dig them up, eat them, and spread their spores around the forest. Not all fungi are friendly, and some of them cause the trees to rot. While the tree may die, it opens new gaps for new life to appear in a mind-boggling process that is the cycle of nature.

Illustration based on my handwritten notes of Cannings and Cannings (1996).

In preparation for this post, I read up on old growth forests in British Columbia- A Natural History. It's an old book and the information is likely outdated, but I like the way it presented the topic. I jotted down a few notes, and a light bulb went off in my head. I decided to scan my notes into Gemini Notebook to create the illustration entitled "The Vertical Life of an Old Growth Forest." I was pleasantly surprised that the AI was able to decipher my illegible writing, even with the picture rotated the wrong way 😌. Unfortunately, it did make some mistakes in character recognition that made some parts of the illustration nearly unreadable. I took this illustration and fixed it up using ChatGPT Images 2. I double-checked the information on the second iteration and found a couple of errors as noted below.

• Under The Fungal Network, it's supposed to be about truffles growing underground, providing nutrients for trees and animals that dig them up and spread them on the forest.

• Longevity & Milestones. It's yellow cedar not red, though the red variety can also grow to a veritable age.

This was an interesting experiment because I really like using my pens, and this gives me some ideas on how to take field notes and transform them into digital media artifacts.

Additionally, keep in mind that the information is dated. For instance, dead wood is now said to account for 30% of biomass in a healthy forest (2-3% in a carefully managed forest).

Thank you for hiking along.

Resource

Cannings R., and Cannings S. (1996) British Columbia. A Natural History. Greystone Books.

Images by @litguru. Illustration based on research notes for Cannings and Cannings (1996) and generated by @litguru using AI