Listening to the songs of the Longleaf pines

I am a child of Florida, born and raised, and plan on being a Floridian until the end. I love all the varied and wild ecosystems of my home state, but if I had to pick my favorite tree and ecosystem, it would be the sandhills and uplands of the longleaf pine. These special trees are connected to a vibrant mosaic of wildlife and native plants.

NWF does valuable and noble work to protect the forests of Florida and the larger American South. NWF’s Southeast Forestry Program is working across the south to restore longleaf forests for the human and natural communities that depend on them. It is truly impressive work.

I am deeply blessed to live along the southern Nature Coast on the Gulf Coast of Florida, a landscape richly adorned with longleaf pines. Traveling into the forest provides a sublime and transcendent opportunity to hear the wind give them song and listen to their chorus. The song of windswept pines opens doors in my soul that allow me to, just for a moment, venture back in time to the sweetest of memories.

I hear the voice of my grandparents in the music of the pines. I hear the voice of my father, and remember time spent in nature with him. Most powerfully, though, I hear the voice of my mother. It is both painful in the reminder of loss and joyful in the celebration of memory—truly the definition of bittersweet.

My mom was a dedicated adherent of the longleaf pine. She loved hiking among them. We carried our plant and bird guides in our backpacks, seeking to know the botany below and the avian wonders above—the amazing birds of the longleaf. The sounds of the longleaf pine come not just from the wind through their needles, but from the calls that the creatures inhabiting them send forth. My mom and I were thrilled every time the rich chorus burst forth around us.

As we hiked, we heard the crunch of pine needles below our feet. We heard the gentle and hushed call of the northern bobwhite. As evening approached, the back and forth of barred owls announced the transition from day to night. The chuck-will’s-widow welcomed the stars and the moon through the pines. We wandered up and down the hills and valleys of places like the Brooksville Ridge, along some of the highest points in Florida. Sandhills are not mountains, but in Florida, any elevation is worth noting and celebrating. 

We marveled at the science, practice, and magic of prescribed fire. We saw firsthand, many times, the transformational power it had in the longleaf forest. Green growth bursts forth from darkened ashes. New life surges into the world from the burnt offerings of the fire’s transition—nutrients recycled through fire.

Fire is the lifeblood of longleaf pines, as essential as water. Fire is to water as water is to fire in a longleaf forest. Both are equally important. Both nourish all things wild within the range of these mighty trees.

For years these magnificent landscapes disappeared across the American South, but then a small group of ecologists and foresters began to preach the gospel of prescribed fire. They connected the loss of so many elemental species of plants and animals in the South to the loss of longleaf pines. Longleaf systems on public lands that were overrun with oaks and sweetgums were gradually reclaimed, through effective management and prescribed fire. What was once thought lost was being found again.

The longleaf pine is truly the tree of life. Few trees are as essential to all forms of life beneath them, those of shell, fur, feather, and claw. When they wither, when they are lost to lack of fire or overharvest, all below them withers as well. When they are lost, ecological loss ripples in all directions.

My mom and I became pilgrims sharing a journey of restoration as we wandered among the pines and marveled. The trails we hiked helped her put cancer and illness behind her and embrace the wonder of life surging forth after loss.

Let us rejoice in all things longleaf, preserving these trees with fire and patience. By conserving these habitats and ecosystems on public and private lands, perhaps we can show future generations that we had the grace, humility, and wisdom to set right what we had so broken. Let us celebrate the longleaf pine. May their rich chorus forever define wild Florida.

Learn more about longleaf pines.

An edited and modified version of this essay appeared in The Invading Sea. Joe Murphy is a native and lifelong Floridian who lives in Brooksville, along the Nature Coast. Joe is a former Wildlife Policy Specialist for NWF’s Gulf Program and submits these blog posts as an alumnus and supporter. You can follow Joe on Facebook.