Glorious Spring!
Today was the first really warm day of spring, and though it brought with it strong winds, the wife and I went down to Neal Smith Wildlife Refuge to get some hiking in. Well, seems like the Federal government had other plans which ended up being better. As we rolled closer to the park streaks of smoke began to fill the sky in thick brown pillars. The prairie hasn't yet begun to green with the warm weather, so rolling vistas of brown weather-beaten grass covered both sides of the road. Suddenly black patches began to appear, transforming into huge swathes of roasted grass. A truck stopped us as we got closer to the visitors center, and the young man from the Department of the Interior confirmed what I had just told my carsick wife: proscribed prairie burn! Less than a mile down the road smoke eaters from the Department were using drop torches to light small fires in order to burn off last years vegetation and prepare the ground for spring. We parked and walked back down the road a small piece in order to get a closer look, and the stark reality of a prairie fire really struck home for me.
As I said earlier, the winds were strong today, probably a sustained 20 m.p.h. or more. As the flames licked at the fragile dried stalks of grass and caught hold, the wind fed more oxygen to the combustion and caused the clusters of grass and plants to explode with roar and crackle, surging from one plant to the next and running up hills and down into swells. At times the heat was palpable, even from forty feet away. Smoke surged to the northwest, a brown greasy smudge on the sky that surrounded everything. After a while I could feel the mixture of smoke, soot and grease on my face, something that brought back great memories of camping and reenacting to mind. It was truly an awesome sight to behold, and I couldn't help but think of farmers on the prairie facing such fires caused by lightning, watching the flames surge towards their home and outbuildings, or more hopefully watch it sweep across the horizon in security. It was almost depressing to see whole hillsides draped in a mantle of black, as if nature herself mourned the loss of the old grasses and forbs. The promise of green grass and blooming flowers means that I have to go back in a month or so and see how it's sprung back.
Got to see the bison heard this time. Spent about forty-five minutes watching them sleep and eat, lazing in the grass ignorant of my presence. Got some great pictures too. I absolutely love going down there.
As I said earlier, the winds were strong today, probably a sustained 20 m.p.h. or more. As the flames licked at the fragile dried stalks of grass and caught hold, the wind fed more oxygen to the combustion and caused the clusters of grass and plants to explode with roar and crackle, surging from one plant to the next and running up hills and down into swells. At times the heat was palpable, even from forty feet away. Smoke surged to the northwest, a brown greasy smudge on the sky that surrounded everything. After a while I could feel the mixture of smoke, soot and grease on my face, something that brought back great memories of camping and reenacting to mind. It was truly an awesome sight to behold, and I couldn't help but think of farmers on the prairie facing such fires caused by lightning, watching the flames surge towards their home and outbuildings, or more hopefully watch it sweep across the horizon in security. It was almost depressing to see whole hillsides draped in a mantle of black, as if nature herself mourned the loss of the old grasses and forbs. The promise of green grass and blooming flowers means that I have to go back in a month or so and see how it's sprung back.
Got to see the bison heard this time. Spent about forty-five minutes watching them sleep and eat, lazing in the grass ignorant of my presence. Got some great pictures too. I absolutely love going down there.