I’m out in Australia for the month of March.   Travelling by train up to Northern Queensland I pass by miles of natural forest, or ‘bushland’.  I find myself thinking about my ancestors. One of my great grand fathers was a farmer and a sawmiller.  Another cleared the land by ‘ring-barking’ (figure it out for yourself) acres of land for farming. At the time that was how it was done. My great grandfather’s farm was a ‘model’ farm where settlers from all around came to learn how it was done. There were very many sawmillers throughout the country at the time of the early European settlers.

As usual trees are on my mind and train travel oils the cogs of my mind.  I let my imagination drift out into the landscape I’m passing through.  Imagine if our ancestors had asked themselves different questions when they moved into the forests of the world.  For example the questions that the early European ‘explorers’ of Australia obviously asked themselves were “How can we best get our hands on this magnificent timber and exploit these fantastic old forests for our own benefit?”  It is not speculation that these were the questions they asked themselves, – it is recorded in the very landscapes that I’m now moving through. You only have to open your eyes to see that this was the case.  The forest cover is now down two thirds and the vast majority of the forest trees are small.  Do the sums. I know, it’s not just Australia. For whatever reasons, so many developed countries, including Ireland, are equally deforested.

We have inherited these denuded landscapes.  We live amongst them and think it’s normal. We have also inherited the very questions that were asked by our ancestors and some of us approach forests in the same manner as people did 200 years and more ago. The slash and burn/clearfell approach.  We’re still asking questions of ‘what’s in it for us’, only now we can leave out the ‘magnificent’ and ‘fantastic old’ when it comes to the forests. What we grow now are just plantations.  Nothing magnificent or fantastic or old about them. To my mind that is.  It’s hard when you come up against the same old same old when you’ve seen another way and found other questions that lead to far better results. Mostly it’s just greens on one side and commercial forestry on the other. Dug in. Entrenched.

Typical Queensland 'bush' or forest, well picked over long ago for the best trees.

Perhaps the swing of the pendulum is the way of evolution.  In that I mean that at a time when the forests of the world have been clear felled to such an extent that the very climatic conditions  we need in order to live here are being disrupted, solutions are beginning to surface. Or at least more highly evolved questions are emerging.

What if our ancestors had asked questions like:

How can we safeguard these fantastic old forests while at the same time speed up the rate at which they produce this magnificent timber?

What is the sustainable harvest and what percent of what species can we harvest without negative effect on the ecosystems.  How often can we come back?

What number of big old trees per acre do we need to leave behind to maintain biodiversity of fauna and flora and to safeguard the forest?

What areas of these forests should we set aside as nature reserves, – learning places we can refer to if we go wrong?

How can we extract the felled timber without causing damage to young trees and forest soils?

What ways can we use this timber for maximum return and with minimum waste?

How can we find out how these fantastic old forests make such magnificent timber?   How can we replicate what they do?

So I’m sitting on this train bound for northern Queensland, thinking of these things and having immense waves of gratitude for those older forestry friends who started up Pro Silva. Only for them I would never have known to ask such questions as these in my own forestry work and to find some of the answers.  For example I used to think the only way to get broadleaved trees back was to plant them. I didn’t know that if questions like the above were applied to spruce plantations, for example, the result could, over time, be something nearly as wonderful as the old growth forests we have lost. I’ve been so immensely lucky to meet such foresters and to visit many forests with Pro Silva Ireland in some of the 27 countries that are now affiliated.  To see forests where these questions have been formulated and answered and are now being applied is truly inspiring.  Profitable, viable forests.  Sustainable in the true sense of the word.  And well,- magnificent, fantastic and old.

Close to Nature forest in Freudenstadt, Germany, with all age classes of trees present and many species.

I’m reading The Wild Trees at the moment about the giant redwoods (sequoia sempervirens) that grow along the north coast of California.  It’s an enjoyable read, – as much about the people who climb these trees as about the trees themselves.  Richard Preston gives a great description of the root structures of these conifer trees and it illustrates more of what was written about forest stability in my last post

‘A redwood tree sits on a flat pancake of roots, spreading in all directions away from a tree.  A redwood has no taproot. A taproot is a strong, vertical root, shaped like a carrot, that stabs straight down under a tree and acts as an anchor, helping to keep the tree upright.  The pancake roots under a redwood spreads out and narrows down into a fine, dense mat of threads no more than about two feet thick.  These fine roots extend outward for unknown distances from the tree, perhaps a hundred yards or more.  They eventually merge with the threadlike roots of other redwoods, forming a tangled mat of roots. The roots of a redwood forest resemble a pad made of felt.  The pad seems to support all the redwoods that are in a stand; they are all anchored by the common mat.’

I thought it was interesting to find that quote, and it helps to explain more fully the nature of conifers and why they often blow over in storms here.

And, – by total coincidence, my partner Gabriel was in California last week, visiting his son, Narayan, who is living there at present. They decided to head out of LA and drive north along the coast. They spent a few days in amongst the other redwoods (sequoiadendron gigantium) – some of the largest trees on earth.  Look at these for shots:

The tree that is called General Grant

Narayan at the base of the sequoia that is called General Grant

How wonderful to see this enormous tree growing at home amongst other naturally occurring trees of all sizes and varied species.

Seeing these pictures makes me question yet again why we place no value on big trees here, and why we keep cutting down our own forests before they have a chance to mature.

No big trees likely here. Sad land where a plantation has been clear cut. Drumshanbo, Co. Leitrim