Burning the Land

A MORNING WITH AIDAN CORNELISON, WILDLAND FIREFIGHTER

Story by Mary Dansak

Recently I found myself sitting on the porch talking with my friend Aidan Cornelison, a Wildland Firefighter with the Talladega National Forest. While I thought I understood the basics of what she did, I learned there was much more going on in her world than putting out fires.

Fire is considered one of the “Four Threats” to the health of the nation’s forests, the others being invasive species, loss of open spaces, and unmanaged recreation. Still, much of Aidan’s work with the Forest Service involves setting fires. Far from an arsonist, Aidan and her crew maintain the health of our forests through prescribed burns.

“Fire is a natural component in Alabama forests,” Aidan explained. “It’s part of the ecosystem, like flooding, drought, and wind events.” Integral to the nutrient supply as well as the structure of a forest, fires from lightning strikes are part of an ancient and robust life cycle of an Alabama forest.

“We can’t rely on lightning, however,” Aidan said. “We don’t have a lot of expansive areas here where a fire can just burn and burn and put itself out naturally. Alabama has more private land, and so many structures we don’t want destroyed. We still want the ecological benefits of burning, so that leads us to a prescribed fire, sometimes called a controlled burn, which is the intentional burning of a specific piece of forest for our specific management objectives.”

I was impressed with Aidan’s quick and exact definition of a prescribed fire. It turns out Aidan is a fire leader, meaning she not only manages crews but has an active role in fire leadership and education.

As the name implies, a prescribed fire has just that: a prescription. This prescription includes those things fire managers can control, such as the crew, the equipment, the area to be burned, and the timing; but also things they cannot control like relative humidity, wind, temperature, and other weather parameters. If any part of the prescription is not in line, the burn will not take place. “We don’t want a fire to burn too hot and get out of control, or burn too cold and not accomplish our ecological objectives for the burn,” she added. “We want to simulate a natural event in a safe environment.”

Most of my understanding of prescribed fire was as a firesuppression tool, with regular clearing of the underbrush reducing the chances for raging wildfires. Of course, there’s more to the story.

Aidan explained that regular burning returns precious nutrients to the soil, making a healthier home for native plants. Some seeds need bare soil to germinate, with fire providing such a landing spot. Fire creates open spaces for sunlight to reach seedlings. Even our beloved pitcher plants need fire to reduce competition and to release nutrients from the bogs.

“We’re a fire adapted species ourselves,” Aidan said. “Imagine a beautiful piece of land. Maybe it’s a prairie full of wildflowers. Maybe an open park with trees spread out, or a tract of forest you can walk in. These are all fire-maintained landscapes. Even our food crops evolved in fire-managed ecosystems.”

My eyes focus on the woods behind Aidan. Our wooded acre is barely walkable. After 20 years of neglect, invasive species have taken over, with Autumn olive being the one I detest most. Although this property, being inside the city limits, is not a candidate for burning, Aidan and her husband Joseph Jenkins, also a certified Wildland Firefighter, have taken on the task of restoring a parcel of overgrown rural family property with fire.

“Walk me through the succession,” I say.

Aidan describes the property before burning as a degraded woodland, with no place for animals to forage, a severe invasion of non-native plant species, and a generally unproductive forest.

“One of the most difficult things about fire management is that the places that need fire the most are the most difficult to burn,” she said. “Unfortunately, people have historically planted invasives that impede fire like Autumn olive, wisteria, and privet.”

While the native plants are fire-adapted, meaning they will burn while benefiting from fire, these invasives are usually fire resistant. When their canopy gets big enough to shade out native forbs and grasses that would carry the fire, it cannot travel through the forest. Thus, before fire can do its work, the fire crew has to cut back the heavy brush and prepare the land for burning. Aidan is handy with a chainsaw.

“Now imagine an area where the mid-story is opened up, allowing sunlight to come through. With sunlight, the native grasses grow, and now the area is ready to burn.”

I smile, looking forward to the next step. If all goes as planned, the restoration burn will clear up those thick-stemmed branches of the invasive plants. While appearing as an unattractive, burned forest, in time we will see the return of native plants like red buckeye, American bluehearts, purple passionflower, and other wildflowers. That of course means a return of animal species who feed on these plants as well.

I feel enthusiastic anticipation of this place she describes.

Aidan continues our time-travel journey, explaining that with more sunlight reaching the forest floor, and soils enriched by nutrients, trees will begin to grow. However, over time leaf and pine litter will build up, thicker and thicker, and we may see the return of invasives like the dreaded Autumn olive.

“Fire is not a one-time thing,” Aidan reminds me. “Just as it would be in nature, a fire-adapted ecosystem is cyclical.”

The spark in Aidan’s eyes as she talks about the restorative property of fire is bright. “I love what I do,” she says. “There is a primal satisfaction in working with fire.”

“I’m always listening to fire,” she concludes. “You have to be a student of fire to work with it.”

Aidan Cornelison, a Wildland Firefighter with the Talladega National Forest, talks about the ecological benefits of a prescribed burn.

Aidan Cornelison explained that regular burning returns precious nutrients to the soil, making a healthier home for native plants. Some seeds need bare soil to germinate, with fire providing such a landing spot. Fire creates open spaces for sunlight to reach seedlings. Even pitcher plants need fire to reduce competition and to release nutrients from the bogs.