n 1988, television news anchors gave nightly updates of the damage wrought by the Yellowstone fire, detailing how many firefighters poured how many thousands of gallons of water on how many acres of burning forests. Afterwards, to see the charred black remains seemingly devoid of life, one would think the destruction was irreversible, permanent—a complete loss. But forests recover. Nature fights back.
Visit Yellowstone today and you’ll find healthy trees already 6 to 12 feet tall, and areas brimming with wildlife. Sure, it’s easy to discern these regions from adjacent lands not subject to the flames, but the transformation seems miraculous. What’s at the heart of this recovery?
“First off, ‘recovery’ is a word that ecologists no longer use very often, because the word itself implies that something has been damaged or hurt, when in fact, fire is an integral part of the forest ecosystem,” says Bill Romme, a professor in the Department of Forest, Rangeland, and Watershed Stewardship at Colorado State University. “It would be like talking about a forest ‘recovering’ from winter. When you experience your very first winter, it may seem devastating, but after a while you begin to realize every winter is followed by spring—it’s just a natural cycle.”
Amazingly enough, even after the most severe fire, life remains. Pine trees like ponderosa found in Grand Canyon National Park and Rocky Mountain National Park feature thick bark, which insulates sensitive internal tissues, protecting them from intense flames. Southeastern pines such as the longleaf actually shed their lower branches as they grow, an adaptation that makes for more efficient photosynthesis, with the added benefit of fire protection.
Even if plants above ground appear to be dead, underground their roots often survive: Aspen in Yellowstone and Glacier are quite easily killed above ground, but their roots sprout prolifically after a fire to create a whole new stand of trees.
The third major source of renewal is found in seeds, which may be buried underground, scattered in the brush, or clinging to tree limbs far above the flames. Although you’d think fire would spell the end for these seeds, some actually prefer the heat. The seeds of a western shrub called buckbrush, found in a number of western parks, can remain dormant for hundreds of years and germinate only when they’re subjected to the heat shock from a fire. The cones of the lodgepole pine won’t open until they’re subjected to high temperatures—once a fire has subsided, the cones gradually open, dropping their seeds onto the ground just after it cools.
Of course, these variations don’t come about by coincidence. In regions where fire is prevalent, you’ll generally find vegetation that has adapted to withstand the heat; otherwise, there wouldn’t be any vegetation at all.
Animals manage to adapt to these harsh conditions surprisingly well, too. “A lot of insects, rodents, and even amphibians can survive the passing of a flame front,” says Timothy Ingalsbee, executive director of Firefighters United for Safety, Ethics, and Ecology and a former firefighter with the Park Service and Forest Service. “Small animals like rodents will often burrow underground [until the fire has passed] or climb inside downed logs, which can store an immense amount of water, acting like fire shelters.” Deer and large carnivores seldom run from fire in a panic, as Disney films might lead us to believe, but rather drift in and out of burning areas, seeking prey that are exposed as fire claims smaller plants and bushes that act as cover.
Regrowth begins immediately. As more sunlight and rainwater reach the forest ground, grasses and flowers quickly sprout from soil bursting with nutrients, thanks to ash. But those smaller plants will thrive only briefly. Their time in the sun will come to an end as larger trees begin to grow, re-creating the forest canopy and claiming the sunlight and rainwater as their own once again. And the cycle continues, naturally.
“Everybody who has done detailed studies in Yellowstone has concluded that those fires in 1988 really didn’t hurt the park at all,” says Romme. “In fact, there were comparable fires in Yellowstone in the early 1700s, so Yellowstone today probably looks a lot like it did in 1750.”
That’s not to say that all forest fires are harmless. With increased logging changing the nature of our forests, the impact of global climate change, and construction of homes and other buildings adjacent to forestland, the margin of error has narrowed while the effect of forest fires has increased. But if nature is truly allowed to take its course, forests will always find a way to rise from the ashes.
Scott Kirkwood is senior editor for National Parks magazine.
