Fire Ecology & the role of the Birch

BIrch wasn't one of the trees I was really planning on working with during my residency this week, at Directangle Press in New Hampshire. But ever since I got on the road, I've been getting drawn in by the white lady of the woods. On my way to NH, I spent a night at a campsite in the Green Mountains of Vermont, surrounded by white birch, and ever since I've gotten here, I feel like there's birch wherever I look.

It's rather fitting that birch should be asserting itself now, pushing to be the first tree for me to start working on, as I actually "start" this project. Birch is one of the traditional ogham trees: it's represented by Beith, the first letter of the ogham alphabet. As such, birch is associated with new beginnings and fresh starts, with purification and cleansing. So, in fact, it feels like a good omen for the project to begin at the beginning, with Beith.

It would be hard for me to discuss why the birch fills this important first spot in the ogham without also discussing the concept of fire ecology and ecological succession—a concept that's apparently important enough to me that I named my entire press after it. Fire ecology is the study of wildfires and how they interact with the environment. Wildfires are a vital part of many ecosystems, and a part of the cycle of ecological succession. This refers to, in this case, the process of reforestation after an area of the forest has been damaged by fire, which happens in stages. Pioneer species are the first on the scene, starting the process of healing the land. Mid-successional species show up next, and then climax species are the last to grow and flourish, being adapted to life in stable, predictable environments. Once climax trees dominate the landscape, that ecosystem has reached a sort of ecological equilibrium, one that will be maintained until some event disrupts that peace, usually another wildfire. And the cycle begins anew.

(Ecological succession will play an important role in my ogham system as well. The traditional ogham consists of 20 trees that are sorted into 4 aicme (or families) of 5 trees each. To be honest, the aicme never really resonated with me. It was never super clear to me why they're organized the way they are, and they don't really convey any symbolic meaning the way the tarot suits do. So I intend to use the stages of ecological succession as my "suits" or aicme; what part of that cycle a tree thrives in says a lot about its character in a way that I think lends itself to this sort of symbolic language. But I can expound on that another time.)

Back to the birch, finally. The birch is an early pioneer species, often the first one to arrive on the scene after a fire or a clearcut. I keep having this recurring mental image of a charred and barren landscape, the only life a number of skinny birch saplings sticking out of the ash. It's an evocative image, and it says so much about the species. Birches, like other pioneer species, grow quickly but don't live long—a young birch can add a foot or two to its height every year, but only has a lifespan of 60-100 years, not really much at all in the life of a forest. Birches are opportunists. They're hardy and adaptable, able to take advantage of environments that would be hostile to other species. They strike when the iron is hot. In doing so, not only do they carve out a niche for themselves without much competition, but they also begin the hard work of healing a place that has been damaged. They're not doing all the work, but someone has to take that first step. That's the role of the birch, and so it makes total sense that it would come to represent renewal in many cultures.

Another birch fact that I haven't been able to get out of my head is about birch bark, which is remarkably strong. It looks more fragile than other kinds of bark, especially the paper birch, with its tendency to peel itself right off the trunk, but it's actually the most durable part of the tree. After a birch falls, the inner wood will rot away and leave only the incredibly rot-resistant bark, often in an odd tube-like shape as if it doesn't realize there's no longer a tree to protect. Despite being so strong, birch bark is also thin enough to allow sunlight to penetrate it and reach the inner layers of bark which contain chlorophyll, meaning that birches can actually photosynthesize through their bark. Apparently that's the evolutionary reason for the peeling bark, actually—moss and lichen growing on the trunk can disrupt photosynthesis, so molting the outer layer of bark keeps them clean of all that. It's pretty amazing.

I'm at a time in my life where the symbolism of the birch (and its' new beginnings) is particularly meaningful to me. Not only is it the start of the artistic endeavor that is the Ogham of the Northeast, but it's also the start of an entire new chapter of my life. I've decided to go back to school at age 35, to study art education, and as I'm writing this, I'm just over two weeks out from the start of the fall 2025 semester. It'll be my first time in a classroom in more than 10 years, and I'd be lying if I said I had no trepidations, but mostly I'm excited. There's something that feels very cool about being an adult student, actually. I'm not just going to school because it's the logical next step in life. I'm going because I found something I know I want to do, and I'm taking steps to achieve that. I've made a decision to start over. That's birch energy at work.

Actually, I've been at Directangle a couple of days now and this is the first print that I finished. Birch bark is incredible to work with, the texture is amazing, and I'm super happy with how it looks in this one-color riso print that I made with the scan bed. This was also the first time I used my new Daredevil furniture from Springtide Press. (It's a very simple implementation but you have to start somewhere.) I'm feeling very focused while I'm here and I suspect at the end of the week, I'll have a much clearer vision of what this artistic endeavor is going to look like. I'm looking forward to seeing what I can accomplish, I hope to be able to tap into some birch energy from the White Mountains.