The Understory Part 2: Prescribed Burning
The second in a two-part series on forest understory is a discussion of a topic of increasing current interest because of the increase in forest fires worldwide, prescribed burns.
An effect resulting from deer overpopulation is the eradication of resources upon which other species are dependent, threatening biodiversity. Stout discusses the impact on songbird populations and says, “In many places there is very little undergrowth left except plants that deer don’t like… wildflowers and the middle level of shrubs such as viburnums and small trees, which are home to many native songbirds, are no longer present and fewer of these birds are to be seen.”[1] In his 2013 book about controlled burning of long-leaf pine understory in South Carolina, Den Latham references deer overpopulation:
Barclay commented that the Lowcountry was “overrun with deer.” Meg acknowledged that “Williamsburg County is crawling with deer,” and they both agreed that the population needed to be culled. With this in mind, Barclay had leased his land to a hunting club, hoping it would harvest a hundred does per year. I wondered about the impact of deer on quail populations. “Deer eat everything that quail eat,” said Judy. “Take sunflowers—deer won’t let the plant get to the flowering stage. When sunflowers sprout, deer graze them down. You’ll see just stems up and down the rows. I’m excited that Barclay tries to take out a hundred deer per year.” According to Barclay, the trouble is that most hunters want only trophy bucks…“That is so great,” said Judy. “I tell the landowners I work with, ‘If you manage for quail, you benefit all wildlife. Rabbits, songbirds, deer, turkeys— they all love early successional habitat.”[2]
There is a lot going on in this excerpt. The use of the word successional in this case is not entirely consistent with the definition put forth by Adams and Lindsey, specifically that habitats once controlled by humans had “subsequently been abandoned.”[3] Though, indeed, prescribed burning, to be discussed shortly, certainly indicates that the process of succession was started by humans. That deer are competing with other species for food is acknowledged, but a case is being made that controlled burning benefits both the habitat and all resident species. That is all game species, anyway. Stated in the quotation is that hunters prefer the “trophy” of taking the bucks (males), but implied is that the culling of does (females) yields better population control. The “management,” specifically culling, of the deer herd is a strategy that is employed but is culturally sensitivity and is generally discussed accordingly. Patterson, Montag, and Williams’ article “The Urbanization of wildlife management: Social science, conflict, and decision making,” discusses some of the implications of different value sets and the social conflicts that result as government agencies engage citizens in the decision-making process expressly in the context of managing an influx of white-tailed deer.[4] Adams and Lindsey surprisingly do not mention culling but in their discussion of management refer to “lethal and nonlethal alternatives.”[5] Horsley describes how Pennsylvania’s Game Commission has changed the laws regarding hunting, for example providing designations such as antlerless versus antlered (seemingly a means of getting at the culling issue without explicitly noting sex), over a more than 100-year span as deer population went from substantial to almost non-existent to the highest levels in the 1980s and finally to the high levels currently.[6]
So what is it about hunters, especially quail[7] hunters, and controlled burning? Native Americans engaged in documented controlled burning as far back as the 17th century, the purpose and results of which William Cronon explains thusly, “observers understood burning as being part of Indian efforts to simplify hunting and facilitate travel; most failed to see its subtler ecological effects.”[8] He adds, “It increased the rate at which forest nutrients were recycled into the soil…plants tended to grow more luxuriantly…fire created conditions favorable to…gatherable foods…Burning tended to destroy plant diseases and pests…fleas…creating forests in many different states of ecological succession.” And finally, “regular fires promoted what ecologists call the “edge effect.”[9] Latham concurs with Cronon’s statements and says, “Native Americans set fire to fields to clear land for crops and to drive game for hunting.”[10] Adams and Lindsey refer casually to “a southern pine forest that burns periodically” in their chapter section on successional habitat patches but note that such a forest “will have only a canopy layer and the herbaceous layer.”[11]
In a 2015 article in the International Journal of Environmental Studies, Leonard A. Brennan (Texas A&M University-Kingsville) offers great detail regarding the history and role of burning in bobwhite quail conservation. Recreational quail hunting was extremely popular during the 1920s and 30s in the southeastern United States (particularly Georgia and Florida) and it was typical to burn the undergrowth in pine woods, which burning also served to control pests like ticks and snakes. The national philosophy of forestry management practices changed during that period as a result of extremely damaging wildfires that had occurred in the western United States. In response, the Forest Services in Georgia and Florida asked landowners to stop engaging in burning. The landowners complied and quail populations went into significant decline.[12] In 1924, Herbert L. Stoddard was hired as a result of a collaborative effort by hunters and the federal government to conduct a comprehensive study of the life and habits of the bobwhite quail. The study completed in 1929 resulted in the publication of Stoddard’s 1931 book entitled The Bobwhite Quail: Its Habits, Preservation and Increase which included a chapter with the title “The Use and Abuse of Fire on Southern Bobwhite Reserves.” The central conclusion of Stoddard’s work regarding burning was “that lack of prescribed fire was the factor responsible for the collapse of the bobwhite populations.”[13] Brennan argues that the conservation efforts resulting from the early work have served to maintain habitat and support numerous diverse, and endangered, species.
In 1995 an effort led by South Carolina and a number of other southern states founded an organization which in 2002 became the National Bobwhite Conservation Initiative which was supported financially by 25 state wildlife agencies.[14] So, the history and philosophical underpinnings of controlled burning are long and considered. And South Carolina, the subject area of Latham’s work is central to the narrative. But the dangers of controlled burning are real. “Prescribed burns are a hot topic both locally and nationally,” Latham says and then adds, “In 2000 in New Mexico a prescribed burn of nine hundred acres raged into a wildfire that burned forty-seven thousand acres and destroyed more than two hundred homes.”[15] The argument is made that smaller, more regular, controlled, prescribed burns actually prevent larger wildfires and again that the burning actually promotes biodiversity. It should be noted that the “pests,” fleas, snakes, and any other species destroyed in the fires are, or were, part of that diversity, as well. All of the participants in the burns in Latham’s book show a good deal of surety and conviction, but throughout the book others, not so close to the process, exhibit a range of differing emotions including fear and confusion. In the penultimate chapter, titled “Wildland-Urban Interface,” Latham asks the owner of an environmental company conducting the burn who would pay if a home were accidentally destroyed in the fire. The response, “A homeowner’s insurance should cover it,” would seemingly not inspire a homeowner with confidence.”[16] The reasons supporting prescribed burns have really not changed much in four hundred years:
We’re trying to restore longleaf pine savannas [and] to reduce hazardous fuel load; to control hardwoods; to eliminate invasive, exotic plants, the seeds of which are carried by birds into the woods from neighboring gardens; to improve grazing and bedding conditions for wildlife; to foster the growth of wiregrass and herbaceous ground cover; to return nutrients to the soil; to create litter-free conditions for longleaf seeds, which need bare mineral soil to sprout.[17]
But the world is a much different place and just as the benefits of “edge effects” have been reconsidered, perhaps so should the practice of prescribed burning.
[1] Stout, 5. [2] Den Latham, Painting the Landscape with Fire: Longleaf Pines and Fire Ecology (Columbia: University of South Carolina, 2013), 122. [3] Adams and Lindsey, 153. [4] Patterson, et al., 171. [5] Adams and Lindsey, 348. [6] Horsley, 2-3. [7] There can be no doubt that the reader was wondering when the narrative would return to the subject of quail. [8] William Cronon, Changes in the Land: Indians, Colonists, and the Ecology of New England, first revised (New York: Hill and Wang, 2003), 50. [9] Ibid., 50-1. [10] Latham, 3. [11] Adams and Lindsey, 153. [12] Leonard A. Brennan, “Hunters Are a Fundamental Component of Northern Bobwhite Quail Conservation,” International Journal of Environmental Studies, Conservation and Hunting in North America, II, 72, no. 5 (September 17, 2015): 3, http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/00207233.2015.1082802. [13] Ibid., 4. [14] Ibid., 6. [15] Ibid., 3. [16] Ibid., 188. [17] Ibid., 189,191.
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