Dead tree brings life to forest

            I knew it was going to happen one day soon.  I just never knew when.  And then finally, sometime during one of last year’s storms, my favorite tree – a massive dead oak in the swampy forested section of my property – went toppling to the ground.

            The tree must have been dead long before I came on the scene.  It was the largest tree on my lot, yet the loggers that came through about 35 years ago didn't want it.  Its enormous trunk was completely stripped of bark, and the last leaves to grow on it became compost decades ago. And yet it still played a significant role in the cycle of life in the forest.

            Woodpeckers visited the naked oak regularly in search of insects boring into its rotted

core.  Hawks occasionally perched on its limbs to scan the area for a meal.  And I sometimes found fur around the lower part of the trunk from where a deer had nuzzled against it, perhaps in an effort to relieve an irritating itch.

            Big dead trees are often cause for alarm among the human population, and many dying trees are quickly dispatched with a chain saw.  Sadly, that was one of the chief reasons for the decline of bluebirds, purple martins and other birds that nest in tree cavities but can’t drill their own holes as woodpeckers do.  Thankfully, we have replaced natural tree cavities with artificial ones – bird houses – so these and other birds can more easily flourish.

            But birds aren't the only creatures that love dead trees.

            The crumbled branches piled around the now-horizontal tree trunk provide protection and nesting sites for small mammals like chipmunks, squirrels, voles and mice.  The entangled branches also make for excellent elevated pathways for these tiny creatures, like a miniature version of a highway on-ramp.

            The increased population of small mammals in and around the fallen oak has attracted predators of a sort I seldom see. 

            I spotted my first least weasel emerging from a tiny crevice beneath the tree last spring.  These fierce relatives of mink are just six or seven inches long – half of it tail – and look cute and cuddly. But they attack and kill prey twice their size with a tremendous bite to the base of the skull.  Despite their ferocious nature, I was pleased that the dead tree had lured such an unusual creature to my yard.

            Foxes and coyotes have nosed around the site, too, now that it harbors so many potential prey species.  And on most spring and summer evenings I can usually hear the back-and-forth hooting of a pair of barred owls that I’m sure are attracted to the feast around the tree.

            Last fall I noticed a bit of moss growing on the fallen trunk, the first step in the long process of decay and decomposition.  But that won't be the end of the tree's contribution to the forest.  Eventually, the rotted wood will deposit its nutrients into the soil and the cycle of growth will begin again.  The nutrient-rich soil will contribute to healthy new vegetation, which in turn will feed other wildlife.  Perhaps a new oak tree will even grow up to take the place of the old one and oversee my back woods.

            For me, though, I'm happy to climb upon the trunk to survey the forest and think back on the many creatures nourished by that old tree over the last century.  I bet it was a satisfying life.  

This article first appeared in the Newport Daily News on January 25, 2020.