This is not the kind of thing I usually do, but maybe it's worth a look. In my long wanderings in Perry State Forest I found a place I've been unnaturally drawn to. I've been there several times now, and it's not really easy to get to from anywhere. I posted some info about the area a while back here. Much of the land in Perry State has been stripmined in decades past. A lot of it has been left unreclaimed. Left on its own it will be a wasteland for a thousand years. Very little grows there even after half a century. Behold the Fields of Nothing. When I say wasteland I mean that for the foreseeable future of the human race the land will be unable to support crops, or trees, or much of anything else in the way of vegatation. The ecology that was there before has been utterly wiped out, and a new ecology has formed in its place.
On the slopes, among the smaller stones, out of the harshest wind and sunlight, a few stunted maple trees can grow. Down near The Dead Lake, where the clay and shale and sand stays moist most of the time, there is actually quite a bit of life, in a relative sense. A few poplars cling to life Over the Dead Lake. Poplars are prolific, but generally short-lived, a scab over a grievous wound. Their roots break rocks and aerate the stoney soil. Their leaves add organic matter to the sand. Their trunks block the wind and make life easier for other growing things. See the little pines trees growing in the shadow of the poplar. Centuries from now this might even be a meadow, and not just Fields of Nothing.
Nearby in flat area where moisture collects part of the time, there is actually some short scrubby grass. This is actually a big step in the healing process. In the summer in Ohio the sun is pretty harsh. With the summer sun beating down, and no rain for weeks sometimes, this sand doesn't hold much moisture, and very little can grow. Grass roots hold the sand together, and lock moisture in it, and even block some of the sunlight from reaching the soil surface. It's a synergistic effect. The more life you have, the more you can have. From sand to grassland, to scrubland, to forest, as more species colonize an area the faster it can heal. But some places have hardly begun to heal at all. With nothing to hold the sand together, erosion eats away at the land. It's all going into the dead lake. Someday it won't even be a lake at all, just a dimple in the ground with trees growing around it. The orginial forest has been left relatively intact on the far side of the deal lake. What a contrast between this side and that.
These kinds of places are as close to the desert as you can come in Ohio. Just like the desert, there is life here, if you look close enough, and the unique habitats actually give us the chance to observe things we might otherwise have a hard time finding. On the edge of a patch of trees I found these Spiranthes orchids. These typically grow in grasslands, but it's not unheard of to find them in open woods, or on the edges of meadows. They are polinated by bumblebees, which always land at the bottom of a spike of flowers, and climp upwards in a spiral. These orchids developed in such a way to exploit this. The flowers are in spirals so the bee will polinate more flowers on her way up the spike. In Ohio orchids of any species are usually very rare. I like to think of these as tiny spiral staircases, representing the struggle of all the living things in this place that will one day make it more than a wastland. Of course the next day they were eaten by the deer, so much for my lovely symbol
The first time I was out here I found a colony of antlion larvae. They dig little pits in the sand and eat ants that fall in. They're really fascinating little creatures. When I came back with a camera they were all gone, except one. It was cold that day, and I couldn't get it to do a whole lot, even after I caught ants to feed it. Maybe I'll try again this weekend.
In the fields of nothing, the eastern fence lizard is the prince. These are very rare this far north, and very seldom seen. If not for this unique habitat I might never have gotten a chance to take a picture. I didn't have time to set up my flash equipment or anything, it's all done "unplugged". These are tiny members of the Iguana family, the only species of Iguanid in Ohio, a relic in a misfit land. This shot took mad skills to pull off. I just wish I could have made a better job of it. Some more depth of field would have been nice, but without my flash stuff that's all I could manage. Look at the rock under its chin to see just how thin the area in focus is here. I'll be looking for this guy again.
The purpose of this isn't to knock the "evil coal companies" or anything like that. I reap the benefits of coal mining everyday just like anyone else. I just wanted to try to share what I felt when walking in this strange place. It seems way out of place here in Ohio, so in a way it's kind of cool because it's so different, but at the same time it's eerie because men made this. We all have similar power and responsibility, if not on the same scale. A single careless step can crush entire worlds, so watch where you walk
Oh, these were all done with my Canon EOS D60. All the wide angle stuff was done with my EF 24mm f/1.4 lens, with a polarizer. The lizard stuff and the orchids were done with my EF 180mm f/3.5 macro, with no flash for a change. The antlion was done with my MP-E 65mm macro lens and MT-24EX twinflash.
I'm branching out here, so let me know if you like or hate something. Thanks for reading and looking!
On the slopes, among the smaller stones, out of the harshest wind and sunlight, a few stunted maple trees can grow. Down near The Dead Lake, where the clay and shale and sand stays moist most of the time, there is actually quite a bit of life, in a relative sense. A few poplars cling to life Over the Dead Lake. Poplars are prolific, but generally short-lived, a scab over a grievous wound. Their roots break rocks and aerate the stoney soil. Their leaves add organic matter to the sand. Their trunks block the wind and make life easier for other growing things. See the little pines trees growing in the shadow of the poplar. Centuries from now this might even be a meadow, and not just Fields of Nothing.
Nearby in flat area where moisture collects part of the time, there is actually some short scrubby grass. This is actually a big step in the healing process. In the summer in Ohio the sun is pretty harsh. With the summer sun beating down, and no rain for weeks sometimes, this sand doesn't hold much moisture, and very little can grow. Grass roots hold the sand together, and lock moisture in it, and even block some of the sunlight from reaching the soil surface. It's a synergistic effect. The more life you have, the more you can have. From sand to grassland, to scrubland, to forest, as more species colonize an area the faster it can heal. But some places have hardly begun to heal at all. With nothing to hold the sand together, erosion eats away at the land. It's all going into the dead lake. Someday it won't even be a lake at all, just a dimple in the ground with trees growing around it. The orginial forest has been left relatively intact on the far side of the deal lake. What a contrast between this side and that.
These kinds of places are as close to the desert as you can come in Ohio. Just like the desert, there is life here, if you look close enough, and the unique habitats actually give us the chance to observe things we might otherwise have a hard time finding. On the edge of a patch of trees I found these Spiranthes orchids. These typically grow in grasslands, but it's not unheard of to find them in open woods, or on the edges of meadows. They are polinated by bumblebees, which always land at the bottom of a spike of flowers, and climp upwards in a spiral. These orchids developed in such a way to exploit this. The flowers are in spirals so the bee will polinate more flowers on her way up the spike. In Ohio orchids of any species are usually very rare. I like to think of these as tiny spiral staircases, representing the struggle of all the living things in this place that will one day make it more than a wastland. Of course the next day they were eaten by the deer, so much for my lovely symbol
The first time I was out here I found a colony of antlion larvae. They dig little pits in the sand and eat ants that fall in. They're really fascinating little creatures. When I came back with a camera they were all gone, except one. It was cold that day, and I couldn't get it to do a whole lot, even after I caught ants to feed it. Maybe I'll try again this weekend.
In the fields of nothing, the eastern fence lizard is the prince. These are very rare this far north, and very seldom seen. If not for this unique habitat I might never have gotten a chance to take a picture. I didn't have time to set up my flash equipment or anything, it's all done "unplugged". These are tiny members of the Iguana family, the only species of Iguanid in Ohio, a relic in a misfit land. This shot took mad skills to pull off. I just wish I could have made a better job of it. Some more depth of field would have been nice, but without my flash stuff that's all I could manage. Look at the rock under its chin to see just how thin the area in focus is here. I'll be looking for this guy again.
The purpose of this isn't to knock the "evil coal companies" or anything like that. I reap the benefits of coal mining everyday just like anyone else. I just wanted to try to share what I felt when walking in this strange place. It seems way out of place here in Ohio, so in a way it's kind of cool because it's so different, but at the same time it's eerie because men made this. We all have similar power and responsibility, if not on the same scale. A single careless step can crush entire worlds, so watch where you walk
Oh, these were all done with my Canon EOS D60. All the wide angle stuff was done with my EF 24mm f/1.4 lens, with a polarizer. The lizard stuff and the orchids were done with my EF 180mm f/3.5 macro, with no flash for a change. The antlion was done with my MP-E 65mm macro lens and MT-24EX twinflash.
I'm branching out here, so let me know if you like or hate something. Thanks for reading and looking!
Facebook
Twitter