Mud
When my kids were small enough to find a book and climb onto our laps for a story, 20-plus years ago, a book that was frequently brought to us was In the Rain with Baby Duck by Amy Hest. Struggling with accepting the messy life of a duck, Baby Duck learns, with the help of a wise grandfather, that the right equipment (a pair of rain boots and umbrella) in the right situation (a rainy spring day) can solve some problems. (A ducky take on the ‘there’s no bad weather, just bad clothing.’) Yes, we are ignoring the anatomical issues of ducks in boots holding umbrellas. We would ham it up when reading, and Baby Duck had quite an exaggerated pouty voice. “Mud! Mud, mud, mud!” That line comes to mind a good deal this time of year.
The wild swings of late Winter/early Spring weather are the subject of small talk, memes, complaining, and major news events. Teasing days of warmth snap back to bitterly cold winds, heavy snows, dreary, leaden clouds, and then back to a promise of Spring, for a moment. Monotone shades of brown dull our senses and we long for some color. We often treat this season like we do mosquitos. Ugly, annoying, and what good is it?
Ah, what good is it?
Shall we call this the ‘more than meets the eye’ season instead? The Autumn leaves, once so spectacular, lay brown, crumpled, and sodden across the forest floor like the remnants of a great party. Intermixed are pine needles, dry grasses, pinecones, flower petals, critter scat, bark bits, and twigs, along with the dormant ground cover consisting of dozens of species of plants, laying underneath. One of the most notable components of the litter floor are seeds. We’ll get to that. The color of decomposition is happening in shades of brown. Unlike the mess of the party, the forest litter is returning to nourish the next generation. Trillions of bacteria, lichen, and most prominently, fungi, along with worms, beetles, snails, centipedes, and other crawlies are going about their assigned tasks of breaking down organic material. Feeding them, providing life for them.
Studies are ongoing finding the importance of the return of a tree’s own leaf litter to be decomposed and sent back down its own root system. This creates what is called the HFA, or home field advantage (really!) of the nutrient cycling, not unlike a ‘mother’s milk’ being provided to the seedlings, the baby trees, and other plants to get their best start in life. It has been found that this cycle process happens faster beneath the trees it fell from. The decay rate does affect all the plant life around the tree too.
This decomposition plays a critical role in the global carbon cycle as well in the
“breakdown of simple carbon compounds into carbon dioxide (CO2) and water (H2O), and releases inorganic ions (like nitrogen and phosphorus) into the soil where the surrounding plants can then reabsorb the nutrients that were shed as litterfall.”[1]
Those who study the cycles, the Phenologists, get to play in the mud for a living. It’s amazing how much we don’t know yet about simple mud! What they are finding out is how intricate the systems are and how irreparably damaged they become when removed.
The melting snow, thawing frost layer in the ground, new snows, and rain all contribute to the ‘soup’ of nutrients seeping into the earth. Often, the top inches of ground thaw, but with frost still holding a couple more inches down, it has nowhere to go but puddles and soggy spots of mud. Human and animal footprints, tire tracks, sliding hillsides, and falling rocks from cliffs are all signs of the season. Soon to follow are raging creeks carrying the melt run-off and often flooding areas. Freeze-thaw cycles widen cracks in rock and wood causing separation and crumbling.
The saturated ground opens space for roots to begin in dark places. Your favorite wildflowers are beginning to stretch and create their foundations on which to bloom. Insect eggs waken with warmth and longer hours of light. The rebirth of Spring happens where no one is looking at first. They get signals from the decay rates, daylight amount, temperatures, moisture, and nutrients available. The Phenologists are watching for changes in historical data and the factors that may affect these cycles.
So, I’ll flip Baby Duck’s complaint on its head as I encounter the next mud puddle.
Life! Life, life, life!
A side note - you might have seen various headlines and social media posts regarding how to manage the muddy hiking trails this time of year. To add to that, I highly recommend an article written by a long-time coworker and mentor of mine regarding braided trails. Article in the Vail Daily.
Here’s CPW’s post on Facebook.
Sources:
- [1]https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plant_litter
- https://www.google.com/books/edition/In_the_Rain_with_Baby_Duck/9EoE82knU9gC?hl=en&gbpv=0
- https://inalldirections.blog/2016/08/20/the-mud-puddle-ecosystem/
- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mud_season#
- https://www.vaildaily.com/opinion/editorial/vail-daily-column-tread-lightly-on-our-local-trails/
- https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/bring-science-home-leaf-litter-biodiversity/
- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plant_litter
Join me on my Facebook page. I post smaller ‘Encounters’ posts there as I see flowers, animals, weather patterns, and anything else that catches my eye.