Fat lighter

My first experience with fat lighter was during spring break in 1972. My friends Tom and John and I decided to ride our bicycles from Atlanta down to Callaway Gardens, which was probably 70 or 80 miles from where we lived. We were pretty much completely unprepared for anything about the trip. We didn’t have fancy bicycle gear. We wore blue jeans and I probably had some kind of sneakers. Tom wore his old Army boots. We didn’t have warm sleeping bags, or any kind of sleeping gear that I can remember. And, of course, it got cold.

We didn’t make it all the way the first night. We went some way down a powerline right of way out of sight of the highway and made camp. When it got dark, it got too cold to sleep, so we built a fire. I have no idea how we managed to find wood or start it. At some point, one of us found a big chunk of wood and put it on the fire. It caught immediately and burned with a bright, hot flame. It was fat lighter. It was like a gift to us from the patron saint of idiots. We all gathered around and spent the night warming our hands.

I didn’t have much reason to think about fat lighter for the next 40 years, but now I find that we have lots of fat lighter on our property.

When I bought the property where I built out house, it was covered with a very thick growth of mostly young, shortleaf pines. There are a few mature pines, both shortleaf and loblolly. There are many, many tall, thin dead pines lying on the ground or leaning against other pines in the woods. Those are probably all the result of failing in the competition for sunlight. Some might be victims of Hurricane Andrew, which nicked the northwest corner of Georgia in 1992. Among those small dead trees, though, are a few large dead pines that have clearly been on the ground for a long time. In some cases their limbs have held them off the ground, but in other cases they are nearly buried in pine needles and moss. But they are not rotten like the rest of the smaller dead pines.

example dead tree

A few years ago I cut off some limbs and found that in most cases the joint at the main trunk was fat lighter. Fat lighter (also known as fatwood, lighter wood and other names), is part of a dead pine tree where a lot of resin has accumulated, resulting in a dense, very aromatic and flammable piece of wood.

On Saturday, I cut up one of those dead, gray trees and found that almost the entire tree is fat lighter. The tree trunk I cut was about a foot in diameter, and it had the heft of a section of green tree. The wood is aromatic, and it burns well. Under the weathered gray exterior, the wood is a clear yellow.

This branch is clearly fat lighter. The dark wood is dark with a very strong odor of pine resin.

real fat lighter

I have been trying to figure out what kind of pines these are. The Wikipedia entry on fatwood says that fat lighter is commonly associated with the longleaf pine, and there are living longleaf pines not far away from our property. At one time I thought these old dead trees were victims of the same fire that blackened the trunks of the few mature pines on the property, but the longleaf is fire resistant, and if loblollies and short leaf pines survived, I feel sure that longleaf pines would have, too. The gray wood shows no sign of burning, while the existing, mature pines do. The bark is long gone on these gray trees, so there’s no help there. The state of the exterior indicates that the bark has been gone for a long time, certainly many years. Based on the size of the living mature short leaf and loblolly pines, I doubt that they are even as old as 30 years. The dead trees were in basically the same condition back in 1998-99 when I bought the land, so they had been dead for some time before that date. The dead trees are larger than most of the living, mature trees, which  I think means they died either before the mature trees started growing, or not long after. That argues that they were on the ground when the fire burned the bark on the living, mature trees. But where is the evidence of the fire on the gray, dead trees? There seems to be some ambiguity in the evidence.

I can’t explain the evidence, but I think the old, dead trees may have been lying on the ground for many, many years, possibly even many decades.

So I can’t tell exactly how long the trees have been down. What about the species?

It’s hard to tell how much of the original trees are left. In some cases I think a root ball is still detectable near the end of the trees. There are thick branches close to the end of the tree, but generally pines the size of these have a fairly tall truck before there are large limbs, especially in a forest as opposed to a solitary tree. On the mature longleaf pines near us the first branches are quite high off the ground. But that’s also true of the large loblolly and short leaf pines, so that doesn’t help. The only real possible evidence of the species is the statement that fat lighter is associated with longleaf pines. Unfortunately, that’s not definitive.

Another question is how these dead trees ended up in an almost entirely new growth of pines. The top of the mountain has the remains of many old roads. These may be old logging roads. But the original developer of the little neighborhood where we live said that many years ago there was an orchard on top of the mountain. Either case would explain why there are large areas with young pines and few mature trees. But neither case explains how these relatively large pines ended up on the ground surrounded by cleared land that was later covered by short leaf pines.

So we have questions but not many answers. At least we have some firewood.

Wheelbarrow full of fat lighter

Wheelbarrow full of fat lighter

 

Possum and persimmon update

I don’t think I have to make the case that possums like persimmons. That seems to be pretty much common knowledge, even way up in Chicago:

“Moonlight hunts, hound dogs, and possums grown fat on persimmons and roasted with sweet potatoes, are justly celebrated in songs and stories about country life down south.”

At least that’s the way this Web site puts it.

We don’t do hunts by moonlight or otherwise, and we don’t eat possums with sweet potatoes or without. We do have a dog with at least some hound in him, and we do live in the country down south. And the possums are eating persimmons.

In fact, a possum has nearly stripped the persimmon tree I mentioned in an earlier post. I counted four persimmons left on the tree today. A couple of days ago a lot of the fruit was gone, but there were still quite a few out on the long, thin branches. When I saw the possum in the tree a few days ago I wondered what it would do about them. Now I think I know.

I mentioned in another earlier post about finding small branches lying on the ground under the tree with ends neatly chewed into small cone shapes. I think the possum has been chewing the branches off, letting them fall to the ground, and then climbing down and eating the persimmons. It doesn’t seem to find all of them, though. For the last few days Zeke, the part hound dog, has been sniffing out the persimmons the possum misses and eating them.

I haven’t actually seen the possum eating persimmons in the tree, chewing branches off the tree, or eating persimmons off the ground, but I’m pretty sure the case has been made.

Screech Owls

We have two or three kinds of owls on the mountain. I have heard the barred owl and the screech owl, and possibly the great horned owl. Until recently we have seen only one of the larger owls, and then only a fleeting glimpse as it flew across the road and it was illuminated by our headlights*. And then over the last couple of weeks I have seen screech owls three times. Unfortunately, on two of those occasions they were dead.

Here is one I found lying along Fouche Gap Road last Tuesday, Dec. 17. I am not positive of the identification, but based on what I have read, it’s the only native Georgia owl that’s as small as this one was. Both were lying on their backs and I didn’t turn them over to get a better look. The size of this one was consistent with the eight inches given by several sites, although it might have been slightly smaller than that.

Dead owl, Fouche Gap Road

Dead owl, Fouche Gap Road

I made the shot with my iPhone. It’s overexposed, and all the detail in the lighter areas was completely blown out.

The first one I saw was also lying along Fouche Gap Road on the opposite side of the mountain. Their bodies were apparently scavenged quite quickly, so I assume both of them had been hit by cars the previous night.

It bothers me to see any animal that has been hit by a car, but these exquisite little owls were really sad.

The third screech owl was alive. I saw it some time between the two dead owls. I was taking the dogs on their last walk of the night. We were crossing the leach field that’s on the downhill side of the house. It’s surrounded by woods. Zeke had stopped and was watching something intently. It was so dark that all I could see was a vague outline that appeared to have some lighter spots. I assumed that it was Chloe, although I have never seen her in that location. When I turned on my flashlight I realized it was a bird.

Zeke was staring at it from about six feet away. The owl was staring back. I was afraid Zeke was going to charge it, so I pulled him back. At that point the bird flew away into the woods.

It was an odd confrontation. I wonder why the owl didn’t fly immediately. Maybe it had caught some small animal and didn’t want to leave it.

* Which reminds me of another time I saw an owl. It was in 1977. I was living at Lake Tahoe, and Leah’s brother Dan rode his motorcycle out to visit. We took our bikes on a long loop up to Washington and across to North Dakota. We had ridden into the night and pulled over some place in North Dakota to check a map or something. When we pulled back out onto the two-lane highway we were on, a huge white owl appeared just ahead and above my motorcycle, just at the edge of the headlight beam. It accelerated with me for a while and then eventually flew away. It was one of the eeriest and coolest things I have ever seen on the road.

 

Fall color on Lavender Mountain

A few weeks ago I thought our fall color was going to be disappointing. It has turned out better than I expected, but perhaps not quite as good as in some years.

These pictures are from one morning about two weeks ago when I walked the dogs down Fouche Gap Road into Texas Valley. A morning walk down that side of the mountain puts us into shade for a lot of the way down so the color we do have is muted.

This part of the road had some nice color.

Fouche Gap Road in the shade

Fouche Gap Road in the shade

Most of the color is from our maples. The maples tend to be smaller trees scattered in the forest, except beside the road, where they can stick their heads out into the sunlight. Here is one of the brighter red maples.

Maple tree on Fouche Gap Road

Maple tree on Fouche Gap Road

The maples had not finished turning color by this weekend. Even maples right beside each other varied from nearly summertime green through yellow, orange, red and brown.

Most of the large oaks and poplars are brown or maybe slightly yellowish brown. The hickories have been mainly yellow, but their color is not bright and saturated. Here is what I think was a hickory with oaks above it. I don’t remember for sure, but this might have been a tree that I don’t recognize. Hickories have paired leaves on opposite side of the stalk, while the trees I haven’t identified have leaves that alternate. (Oddly, one Web site I went to said that hickory leaves are alternate, but I am 99 percent sure that I have specifically noticed that they are paired on the stem on the trees in our yard that I have identified as pignut hickories; they certainly produce nuts that look like hickory nuts. Could I be mistaken?) The leaves of our unknown-to-me trees are significantly larger than our pignut hickories (I am pretty sure they are pignut; I don’t remember the characteristics I used for that ID, but it took me long enough to come up with it, and I was pretty sure at the time.) Anyway, the leaves in this shot are paired, so they must be hickories according to my identification. The point I was trying to make is that they are yellow, but not bright yellow.

Hickory leaves with oaks above

Hickory leaves with oaks above

Part of our problem is that in our mixed pine and hardwood forest, a large fraction of the taller hardwoods are oaks. The other large trees are poplars (much less common, not much color) and hickories (also less common, some color but not great). From a distance the mountain looks pretty brown. Most of the color seems to be in the understory, where the maples tend to share space with the deep red dogwoods. If you look carefully here and there, our very common muscadine vines provide yellow in some trees that would otherwise be pretty dull.

Even the lowly poison ivy contributes color close to the ground.

Some small maples and pretty poison ivy

Some small maples behind with poison ivy trying to blend in

I haven’t been able to get pictures from the most beautiful places along Fouche Gap Road in late afternoons on the other side of the mountain. That’s when the sunlight streams through the understory and the leaves are illuminated from behind. They seem to glow, and it’s hard to keep my eyes on the road. Maybe that’s an image that’s best built up mentally from fleeting glimpses dominated by the brightest and most colorful leaves.

 

 

 

 

Snake trap

A couple of days ago I took the dogs for their walk down Wildlife Trail, where the road has recently been resurfaced. I noticed that Zeke was paying particular attention to something at the side of the road. When I went over to look, I didn’t recognize it at first. I fairly quickly saw that it was a snake, but it looked strange. The head looked almost like a cobra with its hood spread, but the snake looked black with a grayish diamond pattern. Then I realized that it was a black snake that had been caught in an erosion control mat that was backed with a green plastic mesh. The pattern on its back was the mesh. It had tried to crawl through an opening in the mesh. It couldn’t get through, but it had pushed into the opening far enough that the thin mesh caught on the scales and it couldn’t back out. Its head was horribly swollen. I thought it was dead, but it moved a little.

I didn’t have my camera then, or my reading glasses, so I couldn’t see very well. I knelt down beside it and used the scissors on my little Swiss Army Knife to cut some of the mesh threads. But I just couldn’t see well enough to do much.

I had to take the dogs a little further, but I planned to come back after their walk with glasses so I could free the snake. On the way back up the hill, I looked for the snake but couldn’t find it. I assumed it had freed itself, although I couldn’t figure out how it could have done one that

So I went on about my business for the next couple of days. I took the dogs on our usual walks on Fouche Gap Road and didn’t go down Wildlife Trail. But today I had to get Zeke to the vet, so I took a shorter walk down Wildlife Trail. This is what I saw.

Black snake - the green mesh is barely visible

Black snake – the green mesh is barely visible

There it was, right where I left it. I don’t know how I missed it. This time I had my camera and my glasses. I debated taking the photograph (and it turned out blurred anyway), but I went ahead purely for documentary purposes. I thought this time it was surely dead, but then it moved again.

I knelt down and started cutting more of the strands. The swelling had gone down considerably, but it seemed that there were still strands that were caught under the snake’s scales or embedded in its flesh. Even with my glasses I still couldn’t see well enough to make sure I was getting everything, but I cut away as much as I could. Then I had to walk away.

Again, I planned to come back later with my magnifying headset to try to finish the job. When I finally got back to where it had been, it was gone.

Did I get enough of the mesh cut that it was able to crawl away and survive? Did I cut enough away that it was able to crawl away and die? Did some predator get it? I have no idea. It was hard to believe the snake survived with its grossly swollen head. It was even harder to believe that it survived several days after that. I didn’t expect to be able to save it, and I still think it’s unlikely that it has survived. But I didn’t want to just leave it.

A few years ago during the worst part of our drought, we put up some plastic fencing around some plants to keep the deer from eating them. We found a dead snake caught in that fencing. I never thought about how dangerous that kind of thing can be.