“Wow, that’s a beautiful tree.” Louis Steyaert has his head tipped back to make out the outline of the autumn leaves that cling to the uppermost branches of the giant tulip poplar. Tens of meters overhead, the trunk splits, the two branches racing towards a clear November sky. “How old do you think it is?” Steyaert asks, turning to his colleague, forest ecologist Robert Knox, who is respectfully considering the tree. Leaves crunch as Knox steps forward and embraces the mossy bark, his arms spanning perhaps two-thirds of the massive trunk. |
|||
“At least pre-settlement,” he says, stepping back. Several of these giants are scattered across the sloped, 109-acre Old Belt Woods, which contains one of the last remaining tracts of virgin forest in the eastern United States. Steyaert and Knox have taken me to this tiny forest enclave to give me a firsthand experience of the kind of mature forest that once covered nearly the entire United States east of the Mississippi. |
|||
“This is one typical sign of old growth,” says Steyaert, pointing to a large, centuries-old tree lying across the forest floor. A pit sinks behind the tree’s upturned roots. In forests regrowing on land that was once cleared and plowed, the pits left by falling trees are smoothed over. A truly ancient forest is crater-marked. In a nearby gap left by another fallen giant, a cluster of young tulip poplars compete to fill the space. The massive trees, fallen logs, gaps, and seedlings make the forest uneven; this unevenness is a hallmark of an old, multi-generational forest. |
|||
Is this what North America looked like when John Smith explored it? For Steyaert and Knox, the question is more than idle speculation. Plants interact with the atmosphere to influence local weather and climate. As the landscape changed from forest like Old Belt Woods to the suburban environment surrounding it today, did the weather change as well? Could future changes intensify or lessen global warming by tweaking local weather patterns? As we stand in the woods talking, the wind rushes through the uppermost branches, snapping the leaves that remain on the trees. Standing in the calm below, I can easily see how such large trees hold sway with the wind, but climate models need a different kind of description to reach the same conclusion. They need numbers that describe the shape, height, and color of the tree-tops and the density of the leaves because these are among the elements that talk to the atmosphere. |
|||
Describing landscape changes in the eastern United States since colonization began and translating those descriptions into numbers models can use was the Herculean five-year task that the pair of scientists standing in Old Belt Woods with me that fall day had just completed. Using everything from observations recorded by naturalists and foresters throughout the past 150 years to data from Earth-orbiting satellites, Steyaert and Knox created a series of maps that reconstruct the landscape as it would have appeared in 1650, 1850, 1920, and 1992. These maps provide the hard numbers that climate modelers need to determine what effect landscape changes might have had on the weather in the eastern United States. |
|||