The Almost Final Last of the Season Cedar Maintenance

This aerial map shows the roughly three acre field in which I am currently completing cedar maintenance.  Red outlines indicate the areas of the field that have so far been completed.  A small area to the right is yet to be done.  The portions labeled B-2 and C were completed back in early February.  Work was then halted when a series of storms buried the field in snow.  Snow exited the field a couple of days ago, but it wasn’t until yesterday that the soil dried out enough for me to resume work.  Section D was completed yesterday afternoon and E is what I could get done this morning before heavy rain moved in.  I would not normally be doing this type of work in March, but I just couldn’t leave the field partially completed.  If the rain ends tomorrow as predicted, it will probably be the middle of next week before the soil will be dry enough for me to finish the last bit of this field.

The aerial view makes it appear that this field is heavily occupied by large Eastern Red Cedars.  The view from ground level shows that the cedars are spaced widely enough apart to allow plenty of sunlight to reach the ground.  Where soil conditions allow, a thick grass cover is present.

The slope steepens rapidly at the south end of the field.  The last 15 feet are an almost vertical plunge into the creek.  The last of the snow is still holding on along the top of the creek bank.

Field blends with woods at the steep north end of the field.  One October, about 20 years ago, I mowed a path through the tall grass.  The deer, which always seem to take the easiest option while walking, immediately began following the mowed path.  They still follow the same path and are responsible for it becoming a muddy trail.  As deer numbers increased through the years, they developed paths in other directions through the field and now this is just one in an expanding network of deer highways.

This is considered to be a south facing field.  Unlike the previous field I discussed, this one is dissected by a network of surface depressions that drain water in many different directions.  While the field is still generally south facing, there is a wide variation in slope steepness and direction.  This gives the field an interesting collection of microclimates within its boundary.

Saturated soil is still releasing water into the center of the drains.  The presence of water on the surface is short lived, but a gradual movement of subsurface water along this same route may persist for a couple more months.

Small cedars thrive in these areas of increased water availability.  This eroded area was practically bare when I bought this property.  Prairie grasses are slowly stabilizing the soil.

Between each drain is a ridge.  There is a drastic difference in the amount of water available to plants on the ridges as opposed to the drains.

This section of the field suffered soil slips that resulted in a stair step arrangement of bare patches on the slope.  The slipping stopped long ago, but the poor quality of soil exposed in each step is making it difficult for vegetation to become established.

Lichens are the pioneer species in these bare areas.  In time, grasses take root in the soil stabilized by the lichens.

Lichens become established on any stable surface.  Here they have encrusted an old cedar stump left from my initial clearing of the field.

The deep snow mashed down the fine grasses, making it more difficult to find the small cedars.  Even in the best of conditions I miss a few, but there were probably many more like this that escaped my search this time.

I found several patches of the uncommon Purple Triple-awned Grass, Aristida purpurascens, scattered about the field.  This grass was represented by only a few small clumps at the time this field was originally cleared.

The grass gets its name from the three long filaments, known as awns, projecting from the end of the seed.

I found collections of Blue Jay feathers beneath three different cedars, evidently the work of a Blue Jay predator.  I couldn’t tell if the feather piles represented three different birds, of if the predator moved the bird a couple of times while dining.  This batch included a section of leg bone.  I’m guessing this was the work of a Cooper’s Hawk.  The Cooper’s Hawks around here seem partial to Blue Jays and Mourning Doves.  It’s not unusual to find piles of feathers from these two species.  Even with the hawk whittling down their numbers, the Blue Jays seem just as abundant as ever.

Fence Row Lichens

The most difficult part of clearing work is making sure you leave things that should not be removed.  My work often proceeds at a slow pace because I spend so much time learning about what’s in the path before me.  I always check out the lichens and am especially fond of the fluffy type that grows into what’s known as the fruticose form.

Branches of a half dead Wild Plum lean into the field from the old fence row.  It would be much easier to work here if the branches were removed, but that neat little fruticose lichen is growing near the end of a low hanging branch.  The lichen is left in place, even though working around the branch takes more time.

Here’s a branch that dips so low to the ground a professional Limbo Dancer would have trouble getting under.  This Wild Black Cherry only has two main limbs and both of them grow horizontally out over the field.  It takes a lot of backing and maneuvering to work the mower through here.

Once again, it’s lichens that keep me from removing the branch.  The horizontal surface is covered with lichens.  My knowledge of lichen identification is limited, so I’m not really sure what species I’m dealing with.  I wonder if the species composition found on a horizontal limb differs any from the collection on a similarly sized vertical trunk.  When I find the time to work on lichen identification, this branch will be a very convenient horizontal surface with which to work.

There are some advantages to not knowing about lichens.  I’m free to enjoy the colors, patterns and textures of a lichen mat without being disturbed by thoughts of identification and classification.

The cherry limb is not especially healthy.  Life is expressed by only a few feeble sprouts from the main limb.  Dead limbs have not been well contained and allow rot to enter.  One of these years I expect to find the entire thing lying on the ground.  Until then, I’ll just leave it alone and enjoy viewing the lichens.

I do sometimes wonder just how many lichen species I’m viewing in a situation like this.  I can imagine this being the various forms of a single species just as easily as imagining a dozen species in this one collection.  I know that lichens are valuable indicators of ecosystem health and that they play an important role in ecosystem functions, but I’m not sure how you would incorporate lichens into a landscape management plan.  I hope for now that I’m safe in just being aware of their existence and trying to maintain as many diverse populations as possible.

A New Garden Fence

This is the fence surrounding my garden and it’s obviously not new. I built the fence 24 years ago and combined the physical barrier with a strand or two of electrified wire to keep the deer from feasting on my garden bounty. The fence has exceeded its life expectancy and needs to be replaced. Normally, I would tear out the old and replace it with new, but I’m not comfortable following that course of action.

The wooden cedar posts that I used in the fence construction, have become the foundation for a multitude of lichen species. I’m not anxious to destroy what has taken over two decades to become established.

I’m not good at lichen identification, so I can’t say for sure how many species are actually here. I know that there are many rare lichens and that some lichens are sensitive indicators of environmental conditions. I don’t like to destroy things when I don’t know what they are.

I also feel some responsibility for the lichens having colonized here. I placed the fence posts and in so doing, I invited life to take up residence. If there is a chance that I inadvertently created a place for rarities to thrive, I don’t want to unknowingly destroy that habitat.

I would hate to be like the person that puts up a lawn ornament that also provides an unintended space for cavity nesting birds and then keeps cleaning out the resulting nests. I think it’s my responsibility to see that I’m not creating an attractant that will be detrimental to the local flora and fauna.

So, until I know more about lichens, I don’t want to destroy what’s growing on the fence posts. Besides, I really like lichens and I just enjoy having them growing in such an easy to view location. I still plan on replacing the fence, but I’ll do it in such a way that protects the posts and their lichens.

Lichens

Lichens are everywhere at Blue Jay Barrens. They can be found growing on wood, rocks, soil and anything else that provides a long term foundation. There’s a wide range of forms, colors and textures that I take as an indicator of an abundance of lichen species.

My problem is that I don’t have much experience in lichen identification or classification, so I don’t know whether I’m looking at dozens of different species or dozens of variations of one species. I do have the Brodo text which, if based on weight, must be the best available. I know it’ll cut off circulation to the legs if you try hold it on your lap while reading. I also have some less detailed references, but I haven’t had the time to do any serious lichen studies.

I do know that lichens are a special type of organism formed through the symbiotic relationship of an algae and a fungus. The association produces an organism that is different from either one of the symbionts. It’s interesting enough to think of one type of algae and one fungus having this type of relationship, but to have thousands of different species combining to produce all of these myriad forms is amazing.

Lichens are very sensitive to environmental changes, both local and global. This should be reason enough to learn the lichens, so we are able understand what they can tell us. The abundance of lichens at Blue Jay Barrens should be an indicator that things in general are well, but how am I to know that crinkled edges and rust spots are not the signs of a lichen in the throes of death.

I’ll learn more eventually. For now, I try to be aware of the lichens and maintain a diversity of substrates upon which they can grow. One day I may be able to look at a patch of lichen such as this and tell you about air and rain quality and all the other factors that affect this patch of earth. For now, all I can see in the lichen pattern are such things as a deer’s face, a laughing man, a knight’s helmet and an angel.