The enormous power of wildfires can be devastating. While much of the Rocky Mountain region confronts an historic fire season, tragic lessons are being learned. Many of us living in urban neighborhoods used to think we were safe when grasslands and forests burned near us, but the firestorm that engulfed West Colorado Springs proved those assumptions wrong.

Crack fire crews were ready, air tankers had dropped tons of fire retardant slurry, national experts put a good defensive plan in place, and sudden, erratic, unanticipated 65 mile per hour winds made all of that irrelevant. Entire neighborhoods were erased in minutes. A firestorm overwhelmed all preparations and incinerated hundreds of houses. These weren't houses sitting solitary in a forest. They were homes sitting side by side along wide streets with sidewalks, playgrounds, and fenced backyards.

I was in Colorado Springs the afternoon of June 26, 2012, and felt sickened by the sight of flames cresting the ridge line that was perceived by all of us as a critical border between the city and the threat beyond. I wasn't overly worried because I knew the fire crews were ready based on the many updates we were following on the news channels. Upon arriving home, 20 miles east of the danger, I told my wife the fire was worse. It was a sorrowful understatement.

The best-trained, professional, defensive fire teams in the world can be defeated when Mother Nature adds enormous destructive energy to an already devastating force of nature, but those events aren't common. The Colorado Springs fire is being described by career firefighters as"epic", with growth patterns and expansive actions previously unseen.

This tragedy has many of us reviewing our own homes and neighborhoods with an eye toward the threat of fire. The idea of "wildfire mitigation" was previously unknown or ignored by many homeowners, but now is the discussion topic at the dinner table.

A wildfire is an uncontrolled burning of grasslands and woodlands, or prairies and forests. The large majority of urban settings are still safe from wildfires, but houses and neighborhoods that border zones of bone-dry vegetation should be aware of practices to reduce the fire threat. Wildfire mitigation for a homeowner involves taking actions to lessen or eliminate the potential damage from a wildfire.

A primary factor in determining a home's ability to survive a wildfire is the "defensible space" around it. This defensible space is the area of vegetation around a building that can either hinder or fuel a fire. Gardeners are uniquely qualified in determining the appropriateness of such vegetation.

A house is more likely to resist a wildfire if overgrown grass, dried brush, and overhanging trees are thinned or removed from the immediate vicinity of the building. With no or little fuel, a wildfire's progress can be slowed when it approaches.

Extending a clear space around a structure provides firefighters room to work as they fight flames, keeping a structure fire or a wildfire from moving to other structures or to surrounding woodlands. Giving the trained defenders a defensible space can make the difference between success and failure.

When viewing the area around your home and analyzing the defensible space, think horizontally and vertically. The horizontal space runs across the ground and encompasses low vegetation that could be potential fire fuel. The vertical space runs from the ground to the top of bushes and trees that might ignite. Vegetation that provides both high horizontal and vertical fuel potential poses the biggest threat; thick stands of brush and tightly-packed trees can be hazardous.

Mitigation of wildfire for homes involves disrupting the natural continuity of these horizontal and vertical fuel sources. Thinning large shrubs and trees so there is at least 10 feet between crowns reduces the potential of wildfire moving from one plant to another. Removing low branches and smaller plants under a tree removes these "ladder fuels" that can transform a low, grass fire into a high, tree fire.

A few years ago I was fortunate to receive forestry training as part of our Master Gardener program. It included education on wildfire mitigation and creating defensible zones around houses. I garden using many of those concepts. I've worked to prune lower branches off trees near the house to a height of about 10 feet. I don't plant shrubs near trees. I keep the grass within 100 feet of the house no higher than six inches. Dead trees and branches are removed quickly. No logs or wood are stored within five feet of the house and nothing is stored under the deck.

Even with my education and awareness a wildfire mitigation analysis shows deficiencies and potential hazards in my landscape. I was aware of some of them, overlooked others, and discovered new concerns.

My gardening activities focused on my backyard. Many earlier problems with potential wildfire fuels were corrected. It now offers a substantial defensive space and is maintained well. Little needs to be done there.

The front of the house has the road and gravel driveway as fire barriers and the old Ponderosa Pine is pruned up to about 15 feet; it is not threatened by a slow-moving, low fire. But there are Aspens and shrubs that abut the exterior walls. They are thick and not pruned as well as they should be. We like the way they look but in a wildfire situation they pose a danger to our home. This is the first place in our landscape where a decision needs to be made between aesthetics and safety. It's difficult sacrificing landscape plants, but it may be necessary to mitigate fire danger.

A similar situation exists on the north side of our house. Open pasture leads to the lawn, a thick stand of Aspens grows about 20 feet from the structure, overgrown bushes rest against the house, and a lone Ponderosa Pine rises within 10 feet of the deck and house. Though the lower branches are removed, the tree poses a serious threat. If it were to catch fire from a wind-blown ember, it threatens both the wood deck and the house. It is now a priority for removal.

The worst situation is on the south side. Our neighbor's thick brush and numerous trees flow into a space filled with pine trees on our property that grow right up to the house. Their branches intermingle. There is nothing to stop flames from spreading between them and to our roof.

The first defensible zone around a house should extend at least 15 feet around it. All flammable vegetation should be removed from this zone for maximum fire prevention. The second zone extends to at least 75 feet. Within this zone the continuity and arrangement of vegetation should be adjusted to reduce fuel potential. The south side of my home breaks all the rules of creating a wildfire-defensible space.

Many people move to the country or into the forest because they enjoy the scenery and wish to be engulfed by the plants and trees. No one expects that their home will be annihilated by a wildfire. We are now confronted by this obvious possibility.
 
In the early days of the Waldo Canyon fire as it threatened Colorado Springs, news crews and commentators highlighted the structures that remained immune to the widening fire lines. These homes were in the heart of the forest but they had obvious tree-free zones extending well beyond their walls. The grasses caught fire as the onslought approached but they were easy to extinguish. These homeowners who practiced serious wildfire mitigation practices saw their houses spared.

Creating defensible zones as part of wildfire mitigation works. It needs to exist on a large scale to be most effective. And an entire neighborhood needs to be involved. You can do what you can to reduce fire threat in your landscape but a neighbor's recklessness can still spell disaster.

I'm working with our homeowner's association, of which I'm a board member, to address this issue in our community. Already we're discussing plans for teams to help neighbors remove dead trees and brush if they're not able to do it on their own.

Many fire stations offer help in fire mitigation. If they have the resources they'll be happy to examine your landscape and identify problems. Believe me, it is beneficial for them to have defensible space around the homes they protect.

Mother Nature always has the last word. Even the best-defended home can be lost in a firestorm, as we saw this week. In a typical wildfire, wise mitigation practices can prevent loss. Educating yourself becomes critical when confronted by sustained drought as much of the U.S. is facing. High winds  and catastrophic low humidity increase danger. When the fire approaches it is too late to prepare your landscape. Think and act in advance to protect your home.

For more information read these fact sheets from Colorado State University:

Creating Wildfire-Defensible Zones, no. 6.302
Fire-Resistant Landscaping, no. 6.303
Forest Home Fire Safety, no 6.304
Firewise Plant Materials, no. 6.305

 

_Late winter and early spring are the best times of year to prune fruit trees. Pruning before spring bud break allows the tree to send energy and growth to the branches that you choose with selective pruning. If you wait until the tree is actively growing you waste some of the tree's energy resources and increase the chance of harmful pests and disease invading through the wounds that pruning creates.

Fruit trees in the home garden grow best when they are pruned and trained while young. Proper pruning results in a stronger, healthier tree with the potential for more and bigger fruit. When done correctly, older trees will need almost no pruning as they produce an abundance of fruit in later years.

_Many trees that gardeners purchase arrive as bare-root "whips" with few or no side branches. These small, spindly specimens resemble a stick with just a few roots at a twisted base to identify it as a tree. After planting according to appropriate instructions, prune the top of the whip about three feet (one meter) above the soil line. Make your pruning cut about 1/4 inch (.6 centimeters) above an obvious bud. This helps to promote growth of new branches in the first year.

If you plant a container-grown tree, try to keep as many branches as possible in the first year. Only cut off twigs and branches that are obviously dead or broken. Even weak and small branches will produce leaves that will help increase root development.

In the second year, after becoming established, you can begin to remove branches to help the tree achieve maximum growth. The idea is to train your tree by keeping branches that are strong, healthy, and well-spaced for even growth. Remove branches that are interfering with others, that are broken, and that are poorly or unevenly spaced.

_Look for multiple branches that are all emerging from the same spot on the trunk. If left to grow they will create a weak point. By removing all but one or maybe two of these branches you are increasing the tree's structure and strength.

_Look for branches that emerge from the trunk at a sharp angle; the ones that are growing nearly vertically, close to the trunk. These branches will grow into weak limbs that can break easily in later years. You want to remove them and keep the other branches that angle out evenly.

In the second year I'll keep extra branches on some whips, even if they aren't perfectly spaced. If you remove too many branches too soon, you affect root development and that results in a weaker tree.

In the third year continue removing the interfering and multiple branches. Remove weak and broken ones. You'll probably begin seeing "suckers", the branches that emerge close to the base of the tree at ground level. Prune all the suckers. They have no benefit and will rob the tree of nutrients.

_The third year is also when you can usually begin to develop the shape of your future fruit tree. It's important to remember that branches never grow up with the tree. A branch that is two feet above the soil will always be two feet above the soil. If you want a tree with a nice spot for climbing or sitting, anticipate the appropriate height and prune accordingly.

My fruit trees are at this point and I've pruned off many of the lower branches. They are beginning to look like trees and I'm beginning to visualize where I want the base branches to be in the future. With my harsh winters I don't want to get too aggressive too early in the life of the tree. I'll keep options available by keeping branches unpruned three and four feet high. I know the branches below that aren't needed so they can go.

_For all pruning cuts I look for the bark ridge and branch collar. When you look closely where the branch grows out from the trunk you'll see wrinkled bark at the top of the crotch; that's the bark ridge. The base of the branch is broader and more bulbous, almost like shoulders; that's the collar. Cuts should be just outside the collar, not cutting into either the bark ridge or collar. The cut will be at an angle to the vertical trunk. That allows the tree trunk to grow around the cut, sealing it and protecting the tree from future damage or disease.

_Never make a flush cut, right against the trunk. It may look look like it's right and is recommended by some arborists and "experts", but it can severely impact the tree. The cells that grow into a protective barrier are located in the branch collar. If you cut into the collar or through it, the tree can't grow properly to seal the cut. You've created a wound that is open to disease organisms and to insect pests.

You don't need wound dressing either. When pruned correctly, the cut will begin healing soon. Applying paint or dressing offers no benefit and can aid disease organisms by giving them protective cover. Just leave the the cut alone to heal naturally.

Remember one of the primary reasons for pruning in late winter or early spring is to reduce the chance that harmful organisms are present. As soon as the tree springs to life with warming weather, pruning cuts will begin to heal along with the new green growth.

By focusing on correct pruning when fruit trees are young you save yourself effort and worry compared to when the trees are older. It's much easier to remove a branch that is only half an inch (1.3 centimeters) thick than it is to deal with it when it is four inches (10 cm) wide. If you allow weak branches to grow, they can break under the weight of heavy fruit or snow, possibly endangering the life if the entire tree.

Once you begin to regularly prune, it becomes a quick activity. Major sculpting and forming of the tree's shape is done early when branches are small and easy to cut. Each subsequent year you only need to remove branches that are broken, dying, or have a problem. For half a dozen fruit trees the yearly pruning can be completed in about an hour.

I look forward to my annual pruning. Throughout the year I observe how the trees are growing and try to visualize their future shape. When they are dormant, with leaves gone, I can accurately see which branches will best suit the desired growth and prune accordingly. With each new season's growth I analyze and critique my decision and modify the next year's pruning as needed.

A healthy and well-shaped fruit tree will enhance any home garden. It just takes a little effort and foresight to give you a strong chance of success.

For more information about pruning trees, particularly older trees, see my article "Trees Like Prunes."
 

_It's tough being a plant during crazy weather patterns. Almost every location on the planet seems to be experiencing abnormal temperature variations while people and animals are left wondering what's going on. Even the Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station recently set an all-time high temperature reading of 9.9F degrees (-12.27C). As confused as humans get when we try to decide if we should grab a sweater or jacket or just brave the day in shirtsleeves, plants have no way to make similar decisions when confronting the same situations.

Most perennial plants and trees and shrubs are genetically wired to respond to warming temperatures. When a trend of ever-increasing daily temperatures is registered, it usually means that spring has arrived. That means it's time to wake up, time to open up the sleeping buds, time to sprout forth green growth. Plants react to the changes with no reference to a calendar.

When the warming trend is a fluke, the plant can suffer. Recently I enjoyed a week-long period of temperatures more than 20F degrees above average. December should give me days in the 40s (4C). Instead I enjoyed days in the 60s (16C). This winter has been relatively mild and many sections of my lawn are still green, even under the snow. With this trend of unusual warmth it's important to remember the rest of my landscape.

While it's not unusual for some non-evergreen perennial plants to have evergreen parts, my daisies have kept more green leaves at their core than I remember in recent years. They're ready to grow.

_Many of my herbs are still alive with some new green at the base of my thyme and mint.

When I take a close look at my young fruit trees, it appears that some of the buds are beginning to swell, a sign that maybe they are receiving extra energy from the tree in anticipation of leaf growth. On some of the branches some buds already sprouted little leaves. The tree is confused, "thinking" that spring has arrived.

_It's usually a great sign when new growth appears. We herald the return of spring. But for me it's early January, the heart of winter. While yesterday was another warm day, this morning welcomed us with blowing snow and a high that will be 20 degrees colder, and below freezing.

We can put on another layer of clothes and a warmer jacket. Plants have no such recourse. The tiny hope of new leaves on my apple tree will succumb to the cold. If not tonight when the low temperature is expected to drop near 0F (-18C), then soon when the lows will probably sink lower than that.

Daisy leaves can handle temperatures well below freezing, but if they're is exposed to historical lows in my area that can still hit -30F (-34C), they'll suffer.

Freezing temperatures below what a plant is designed to handle will kill new growth. The Daisy leaves won't survive to provide life-sustaining nutrients when the plant is ready to send up flower stalks. My herbs will shrivel. The awakened apple tree buds won't grow into strong new branches or tasty fruit.
 
The entire plant may not be killed in these conditions, but it can be damaged. Bushes and shrubs won't produce as many branches or flowers. Trees may lose the important buds that control their central trunk growth, resulting in new branch forks and ultimately reduced strength. Perennials can be stunted with less foliage and fewer flowers during the prime growing season. Fruit canes and trees may not bear at all.

There are a few things you can do if you're encountering the same conditions as I. Just as we appreciate a warm coat on a cold night, some plants can be saved by giving them a blanket. If you have new growth on a low-lying plant and are expecting frigid weather, cover it with a wool blanket or a tarp during the day before the low temperatures hit; you may be able to trap enough heat to give it a fighting chance. Surround and cover plants with a thick layer of straw. If you're lucky enough to have snow, leave it in place around your plants. Snow will keep the temperature near the freezing point, but that may be well above the colder air temperatures that can kill new growth.

_For trees and larger plants that can't be covered, expect repercussions from excessive warm-cold weather cycles. Don't be surprised when there are fewer leaves to produce shade or fewer new branches for height and depth. When a new side branch appears in a few years that redirects the primary growth pattern, remember this year.

Much of the time all we can do is react to the harsh reality of drastic temperature swings. Severe pruning may be necessary to eliminate dead branches. Entire plants may die and need to be replaced. Low crop yield shouldn't be a surprise.

It's difficult watching the inevitable decline, damage, or death of a plant. I wonder what effect today's cold will have on tomorrow's growth. Having no control over the situation is uncomfortable for a gardener.

All gardener's in cold regions have and will experience this problem, probably more-so in the future. Knowing that others are going through the same dilemma may be slightly helpful, but certainly not comforting.

Portions of the United States are struggling from the impact of excessive rain and snow melt as others are dealing with the effects of long-term drought. For the people with houses under water, there may be minor envy of the dry regions, and for those of us living in the parched environs there is a whispered desire to have the worries of too much rain. The extremes of weather make comrades of the victims at each end of the spectrum.

The U.S Drought Monitor tracks the effects of prolonged periods without precipitation and shows the entire southern portion of the United States as suffering from at least "abnormally dry" conditions. Nearly the entire state of Texas is designated as "exceptional" drought, the highest level. Every week brings us new record temperatures. Yesterday Phoenix, Arizona, set a new record high of 118F degrees.

While we perspire and curse the heat, drought stress on plants, particularly trees, can be fatal (see my blog, "The Life of a Tree"). Trees need water to sustain their lives, like every living organism, but they have the ability to survive on energy and moisture reserves stored in their roots. Like camels and their humps, trees can survive fairly well without regular water, but only to a point. For survival, most landscape trees need supplemental water.

That means that you must water your trees when natural precipitation fails to deliver enough life-sustaining moisture. Many people think that occasional rain, even when far below normal, is enough to sustain trees. They remember the television science program where deserts came alive after a single downpour. While some desert plants are able to store vast amounts of moisture for long periods of time, the typical trees we have in our yards need regular irrigation and periodic light rains during a drought aren't enough.

As with most garden plants, begin by checking your soil. Dig random holes a few inches deep under the outermost branches of your trees. If the soil is retaining moisture, if you can form it into a ball that holds its shape, the roots will be able to absorb it and the tree is okay. If you have a soil moisture meter insert it at different levels. If the soil is dry at two inches, at three inches, and deeper, you need to water deeply.

Most tree roots are located in the upper six to 24 inches of soil. The shade tree in your backyard hasn't tapped into a deep water reserve with penetrating roots. It's trying to soak up the moisture in the top few inches of soil. The smaller feeder roots are the ones you encounter when you dig a hole for a new plant and they're the ones seeking water. If you encounter dry soil with a test hole, the tree is encountering the same dry soil.

The solution is deep watering. A tree requires gallons of water and bigger trees need more. Trees obtain water best when it soaks the soil to a depth of at least 12 inches. A general rule is 5 to 10 gallons of water per inch of tree diameter, per watering. A three-inch wide tree needs up to 30 gallons of water. You should water this deeply at least twice a month during drought when no other natural precipitation occurs.

The key difference in the amounts of water required are due to the individual needs of the tree. Some trees are more drought tolerant and can survive with less water, others need more water more often. Most Maple, Hawthorn, Goldenrain Tree, Coffee Tree, Juniper, Pine, and Oak trees can handle dry growing conditions.

How you water is important too. Drip lines next to the trunk don't work well. Watering within the dripline is good, but may not be enough. You have to look at the size of the tree and try to determine where the feeder roots are.
 
The roots of an established tree extend well past the confines of the branches. Normal root growth extends two to four times the diameter of the tree crown. A tree that is 15 feet wide at the top may have roots throughout a 30- to 60-feet circle. You can expect the root spread to be at least equal to the height of the tree. Under very dry conditions some trees can send roots out 10 times the crown diameter; there might be roots 100 feet away from large trees.

Younger trees have roots much closer to the trunk so watering with a soaker hose curled around it can be effective. Using a deep-root feeder needle attached to a hose, inserted about eight inches deep, may also work on young trees. But neither of these methods can adequately cover the root zone of a large, established tree.

Bigger trees need water throughout the span of their root zone. Oscillating sprinklers and impact rotors can broadcast water over larges areas. Think about the kind of sprinklers you see in parks and golf courses.

You'll need to determine how much water your hose and sprinkler put out. One easy way is to take a bucket and direct the sprinkler spray into it (yes, you'll probably get wet). Time how long it takes to fill the bucket. If a one gallon bucket fills in 30 seconds, then your hose and sprinkler are distributing two gallons per minute. If you use that sprinkler to cover a tree's root zone, you can expect about 30 gallons in 15 minutes.

That's the first part of watering. Soil is always key. You still need to be sure the water is soaking the soil. So after you've moved the sprinkler to a new location, and after you've let any puddles on the surface drain, go back to your test hole and see if water is making it down to the level of the roots. If you find only the top inch or two is wet while it's dry below that, you will need to water for a longer period of time even if the math says you've distributed the appropriate number of gallons. If the soil is wet at six inches it should fine below that.

After you've figured out how much water your sprinkler puts out and how effectively the soil absorbs it, you can set up a schedule of regular watering at two or three week intervals. Much depends on the weather. If you've had no rain, water more often. If thunderstorms and rainstorms start occurring, you may not need supplemental water at all. Check your soil's moisture content to be sure.

Another consideration is the tree's location. If a tree is near a lawn that is on a regular irrigation cycle, the roots on that side of the tree are soaking up moisture under the grass. You should account for that and may only need to do a partial watering on the tree's dry side. Trees surrounded by turf may not need additional water at all, even in drought.

You take the time to water your vegetable garden, your flowers, and your lawn. Remember the trees. A drought can be devastating and with trees you may not see the impact for two or three years. If you wait for stress indications, it will be too late. If it's dry now, water now. Your trees will appreciate it.

As I write this, the largest wildfire in Arizona history has burned more than 800 square miles. It is one of three major fires roaring through that state and nearby New Mexico. Crews are expected to contain one of them soon, a 350 square mile fire, but only because the fuel is gone. Entire forests have been destroyed and there's nothing left to burn.

Nine years ago Colorado experienced its worst fire in state history, the Hayman fire. It burned 138,000 acres over 20 days, destroyed 132 homes, and led to the death of six people.

My wife and I camped last weekend near the northern edge of that fire's legacy. The site along Buffalo Creek is nestled under massive Ponderosa pine trees in the heart of Pike National Forest. We enjoyed a quick hike to join the Colorado Trail, watching squirrels and chipmunks scamper among the rocks, bushes, and trees. Our young Yellow Lab Lily eagerly ran beside us as we enjoyed all that nature bestowed. Friends joined us for dinner and it became an enchanting evening under the stars with the wind blowing through the trees encouraging the towering branches to dance and sway.

The following morning my wife thumbed through our favorite campground guide for a new location to try on our next excursion. We've camped at Buffalo Campground before, and enjoy it, but are always eager to find fresh and rewarding camping experiences. She found a likely candidate in Goose Creek. It wasn't much of a diversion on our trip home so we decided to check it out.

Exiting the state highway, we traveled 11 miles on a dirt and gravel road. Eleven miles through forest that the Hayman fire hadn't spared. I use the term forest only because it is technically still part of the Pike National Forest, though it doesn't exist as a forest in the conventional sense. I could call it a forest of arboreal grave markers or a forest of blackened spires, but that is too poetic.

There is nothing poetic about the devastation we witnessed for those 11 miles. We'd commented to each other about the fire on every previous trip into Pike Forest; you could see endless burned trees from the main state highway. But this journey into the heart of the destruction was gut wrenching. Thinking about it generates a physical reaction again.

Charred stumps still remain along the narrow, washboard road. I tried to imagine how this trek would differ a decade earlier. In places the road wasn't wide enough for two vehicles and the long branches from ancient trees on either side must have touched to form an evergreen canopy. The cool of the forest on hot summer days must have made this a marvelous place. The beauty would have been breathtaking, as it is in so many spots in Colorado.

But all of that is gone. The campground stands as an oasis in the desert of blackened stumps. Closed for years because of concerns about flooding, it is open again. The flooding concerns were because of the Hayman fire. With the trees and brush gone there was nothing to slow the rush of rain as it built to torrents that collected fire debris and rushed through the mountain valleys. Minimal growth of a few grasses and sparse groundcover must be enough to alleviate those fears now.

The historic fire miraculously spared this campground of only ten campsites, nestled among living trees along a stone-filled creek. Inside the campground we were surrounded by green, the murmur of the cascading water, life, and typical Colorado beauty, but it doesn't extend beyond this minuscule enclave. We stopped to investigate and talk with the verbose campground host. After commenting on his duties, the beauty of the site, and ignorant campers, the conversation naturally turned to fire, the fires of today and the great fire of nine years ago. It was unavoidable.

You might be able to ignore spinach in the teeth, a nervous tic, or a bad haircut when conversing with a new acquaintance, but there is no ignoring wildfire devastation. Eleven miles of depressing visions that extend to each horizon is too much to disregard.

The camp host had just come from cleaning up a site with a smoldering fire pit. When he shoveled the ashes into his plastic bucket they melted the bottom. I could only shake my head and cringe in shock. These uneducated, lazy, or criminally negligent campers left without completely dousing their fire. The Hayman fire began with a burning piece of paper in a fire ring at an official campground. The only upside might be that if their negligence were to start a new fire it would only burn this campground; there's nothing left to burn outside it. But I don't consider that much of a positive point.

Our area of the state is under severe outdoor fire restrictions. The county just south of these two campgrounds has banned all outdoor fire to include cigarettes. Lack of rain, exceptionally dry grass, and high winds seem to be the daily rule. Colorado Springs has received only 15 percent of the precipitation we should have for the month; our yearly total is a third of normal. Everyone talks about the weather.

You might think that people, particularly campers, would be extra vigilant during times like these. That is true for many, but there are always the few who flaunt disdain for the restrictions. The road to Buffalo Campground was lined with campers who didn't want to pay to stay in the official campground and who burned open fires in violation of a ban. That campground host told me the sheriff was making regular rounds up and down the road handing out $500 tickets.

Bans, obvious devastation a few miles down the road, and expensive citations aren't enough to influence some of the population. If a legal fire is left smoldering, I have to wonder if an illegal one amid the expanding trash piles that line our forest thoroughfares is properly extinguished.

Accidentally starting a wildfire, like every other ignorant act, is something that always happens to the other guy. As our country dries to a crisp I think about how many "other guys" are playing Russian roulette with the future of our national forests by disregarding campfire etiquette.

I'll be long gone before the land that encompasses the Hayman fire burn area and the new ones in Arizona ever recover. Those are places I'll never be able to take my grandchildren to enjoy the beauty of nature. We enjoy Buffalo Creek and many other Colorado campgrounds now, but wonder how long they will stay viable and how soon it may be that we experience an epic fire again. My wife and I are doing what we can by limiting fires, burning only in designated fire rings, and ensuring the fire is out, completely, before abandoning it. By taking such actions I'd like to think I'm in the overwhelming majority, but I don’t have a good feeling about that.

A tree slowly inches upward as it lives in a previous time. As we respond to each day's heat or cold or wind or snow, the pine and maple and elm and oak take little notice of the brief event. To them it is the series of days and months and years of nature's forces that affect a life's journey. Trees live in the past.

A gardener rubs a callous after a hard day's digging in rocky ground, spots a new gray hair or three between summer haircuts, notes another toe on the crow's feet around our laughing eyes as we pose for a holiday portrait. We notice the new events on our physical frames as the tree sways unnoticed in the distance, climbing higher to the sky.

The stifling summer afternoon drives us to the cooling shade and a welcome respite with lemonade or sun-warmed ice tea. The protective tree creates the shade while it bears the full impact of the sun-drenched day. It has no respite.

We seldom notice or think about the punishing blows that the tree absorbs. A single day of staggering heat is but a pinprick to a mighty forest bastion. A sequence of weeks with heat and wind and lack of rain begins to wound the mighty arbor, but like the proud father before his worshiping children he shows neither pain nor discomfort.

A tree lives in the past. The growth we climb and photograph and hide under in the relentless heat is the result of the days it experienced two or three years before. It gathers the light and air and water of today to form energy in the complex formula of life and transports that energy deep down to the core of its roots. There it stays, added to yesterday's and last week's contributions. The roots grow and increasing vitality lies unused, yet waiting, in the yielding soil.

When the tree requires nutrition to add the leaves and needles to continue the cycle it draws on the stored reserves. The lengthening branches and towering crown pull from the root-borne sustenance. In days of heat and dry, it sups on the deposit from days of cool and wet. Once used, the energy is gone.

The cycle of storing and consuming continues for the life of the tree. The lengthy delay between the two assumes a balance will exist. It assumes that the force that congregates over many nameless months will be enough for the unforeseen future need. When the scale tips precipitously we do not notice and the tree does not proclaim.

As the stress of sun and drought reduce the energy deposit we enjoy the green and cool from many days earlier when the tree bathed in the rain. As the desiccating cycle continues we offer gratitude for the tree that provides us relief and shelter. The tree does not ask for anything, but the balance is broken.

When the rains fail to fall and the sun stokes the atmospheric furnace, the tree does not cry out in thirst and pain. When the arborial life-restoring machine slows in the parched air, the tree pulls from its core to show green and growth and to slake our need for coolness as it sacrifices itself. We curse the heat, praise the tree, and do not think to restore the shattered scales.

Is is later, much later, that we notice the sacrifice. A tree lives in the past. It is showing today what it experienced years ago. The tree knows it is weakened after long periods of want, insects and pests recognize its weakened state, but we assume all is well. Trees are tall, trees are strong, trees live longer than we. It is only when it is too late that we notice its faltering.

Few new needles, sparse leaves, wilting limbs, and brown replacing green are our first signs, but they are the postscript in the tree's diary. When we see damage and stress and pain, it is too late. Our action and aid will have little effect. Trees live in the past. The water we lavish today will reward the tree years from now, but to withdraw that deposit it must survive until then.

If we had audited the balance sheet when the scale tipped we could have forestalled the death. A tree will accumulate future growth as a function of its being. But if there is no water, there is no life-sustaining moisture to gather. The strongest roots breaking through granite will find no water if none exists. It will use the last of the liquid essence in its veins to grow and find more. This ultimate starvation is hidden from the casual observer.

It is only at the end of it's life after its core is laid open that we are able to witness how the tree reacted to its struggles. The ever expanding rings bear witness to each season and each battle and each yearly accrual, but always in the past.  We can trace the rings and find our wedding year, when our first child was born, and the point of the tree's death. That death is not in the thin final ring, but in the meager bands two and three prior.

As we duck from the pestering rain and remember the drought of a few years before, we study the ring on the stump that bears witness to months of stress when we were thirsty too. If old enough, we may recognize the large circles from the early days when we cared for it, watered it faithfully, and documented its growth. Like human children we know they reach a point when they can care for themselves. With age and stature comes responsibility for one's survival and we cease to nanny our children or the tree.

Trees can't ask for help when the pressures of life are too much. They can't scream in anguish. They can only show us their end in the throes of decline.

We live for today and look to tomorrow. A tree lives in the past and each day is only a show of its yesterdays.