I took this first photo in October of 2010 in the high country of the Smoky Mountains at Clingmans Dome. I have been coming to these hills for over 35 years with family as a kid and with my own children through adulthood and now with my grandchildren. It has been a painful experience to witness the death of much of the spruce and fir forest of the high country over that time period. This area near Clingmans Dome has gone from a lush, green coniferous forest to a grey and diminished ghost forest of skeletons.
The forests that only a short time ago covered these mountains highest peaks have been under attack for many years. Some claim that acid rain has had a hand in their demise, but the biggest culprit has been a small insect known as the Balsam Woolly Aldegid, a wingless insect that is much smaller than a grain of rice. Estimates are that up to 90-99% of the Fraser Firs in the park have died due to this little insect. According to the park service, the Smoky Mountains National Park once contained about 75% of the spruce-fir ecosystems south of the Canadian border.
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But on my last trip here just a week ago, I stood in the same area and couldn't help but notice the smell of spruce and fir boughs in the air. It brought joy to my senses. It was one of those days that come regularly to the high peaks. A day in which the clouds just wrap around you. Everything was fresh and anew, encased by the water laden clouds, washed of the smog and grime for a respite. But what grabbed my senses was the aroma in the air. It was as if I were back in time to Christmas and the smell of a fresh cut tree filled the house. That wonderful, natural aroma from the sap and needles permeating every fibre in my soul.
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And then I began to notice, not the dead snags standing silent against the mountain, but the fresh new growth that was coming from the understory. Growth that gave hope that the forest would flourish again. Hope, that perhaps my grandchildren might have the experience of seeing this high country covered again by a beautiful coniferous forest. Hope that their grandchildren may have the opportunity to smell that wonderful scent of fir trees after a gentle summer rain.
Oh, but I wish you had smell-a-vision and could download a whiff of this magnificent aroma. If I could only take this smell of fresh mountain air home with me! Aaaahhhhhh! But that just gives me reason to come back again and again.
"Nothing is more memorable than a smell. One scent can be unexpected, momentary and fleeting, yet conjure up a childhood summer beside a lake in the mountains."
Diane Ackerman ( 1948 - ) American author, poet and naturalist
