BY HANNES THUM
Time spent in Alaska as a kid taught me several things, but one of the most durable memories I have of that time was watching the fireweed in the fall. Folks up there claim that when the pink fireweed flowers fade and the cottony, white seeds show up on the plants, there are six weeks left until first snow.
Recently, I found myself up on some of the high ridges above the headwaters of the Middle Fork of the Boise River (beautiful country, by the way). I noticed the fireweed plants immediately. They filled the meadows and open spaces left by an old wildfire burn, and they had all “gone to seed”—the wind was gently blowing the white, silky seed pods across the slope.
If the fireweed tells the truth, and if the frost on the grass outside at dawn as I write this confirms what we all already know, winter will be here soon enough.
Humans and the species that we directly care tend not to worry too much. We have elaborate structures to protect us from winter winds and we have tapped into the power of fossil fuels to warm those homes. Even in the coldest, darkest months ahead, when no food grows in this region, we can ship and store food on a global scale (bananas imported from the tropics, for instance, year-round). So, we’ll probably survive the winter. And we enjoy the autumn colors.
But this is a serious time of year for our local, wild critters. That refreshing chill in the air in the morning that makes us humans feel energized and upbeat? It’s a visceral and unmistakable warning sign for those creatures who are about to enter the toughest and most deadly time of year in the mountains. Winter does two significant things to local species: it almost completely shuts off the food sources (plants) for most species; and, it drains energy reserves (for the mammals, in particular) that need to fight to stay warm enough to keep their bodies functioning.
In addition, many of our local animal neighbors plan on giving birth next spring in order to time the arrival of their offspring with the arrival of spring, so they are also readying their bodies for that process right now. Elk are an obvious example of this, as are black bears. In order to produce healthy babies in the spring, they need to set their bodies up for caloric success now, because they will have access to very little nourishment once the snow falls.
So, the animals are preparing however they can. The pika is frantically gathering and storing grass beneath the talus. The elk are putting on as much weight as they can. Birds are traveling. Creatures are beginning to move and arrange themselves, searching for the niches of land that can best support them when the snow arrives. Winter approaches.
Hannes Thum is a Wood River Valley native and has spent most of his life exploring what our local ecosystems have to offer. He currently teaches science at Sun Valley Community School.