By Ellen White
Serving with the Monongahela National Forest
“The one who plants trees, knowing that he will never sit under in their shade, has at least started to understand the meaning of life.” – Rabindranath Tagor
One of the most enduring and inspiring aspects of living and working in West Virginia is that there is a collective understanding to uphold both the heritage and natural ecosystems that we all know, use, and love. With fishing, hunting, and outdoor recreation being such an ingrained part of the generational history and tourism, it is hard to not feel like I have the privilege of living a little extra life every time I go to serve. From the Red Spruce ecosystems that offer a unique and mystical scenic view, to hard rocks that shadow Dolly Sods Wilderness and Shale Barrens that are found nowhere else in the world. The hidden gems that thread between the small blue-collar towns of West Virginia teem with life that is both wild and wonderful.
Upon my settling in the small town of Bartow in September of 2021, there was a motivation in my system to “make the biggest difference I could,” as my father had told me before I left home in Cincinnati, Ohio. Coming a service-oriented family, it was expected of me. Freshly graduated and chomping at the bit to use my degree, I found myself under the guidance and teaching of those working for the Forest Service on the Monongahela National Forest. As the seasons changed, I found myself relishing in the flood of new information that I was being fed. Watershed science, fish biology, silviculture, ecology, wildlife biology, environmental restoration. I was so enthralled by the things I was learning that I couldn’t help the desire to stay a second year with Appalachian Forest National Heritage Area, AmeriCorps, and the United States Forest Service.
My second service year took me to the town of Marlinton, West Virginia. Here, the cultural beauty of West Virginia flourishes to the point that it feels contagious. Winter brings snowboarders and skiers to the local slopes; spring brings a consistent light rain that becomes a comforting sound on the tin roof I sleep under. Summer is festival season, where strangers become friends, bluegrass music rings all day and night, and there is more food to share than Thanksgiving dinner. The fall decorates the mountain sides with an explosion of colors as the red maples, yellow beech, and black cherry trees prepare their winter routines.
I have developed a “found family” that welcomed me with open arms with the Forest Service. While my first year had given me a new understanding of the importance of stream habitat and protecting aquatic species like the enigmatic endangered Candy Darter and jaw dropping Eastern Hellbender, my second has year allowed me to find my niche in conservation: true science that goes into surveying and monitoring terrestrial wildlife and resurrecting habitat that was lost during the timber and mining booms of the 20th century. We often refer to this fieldwork that leads to this restoration as “having our boots on the ground.” Regional Forest Sensitive Species became the forefront of my workload. Shadowing behind wildlife biologists, wildlife technicians, ecologists, and botanists to better understand how we track and monitor these species that are struggling with the changing climate and habitat loss.
Ecological science and restoration include a great deal more than just wildlife. With branches of day-to-day work including hours and hours of pulling invasive species out from the ground, including the dreaded garlic mustard and autumn olive. I have met and encouraged endless crowds of students and children to study the importance of environmental science and the beauty of the land that is in their back yards. Managing the buying, transport, and planting of thousands of Red Spruce trees allowed me to gain valuable experience with large scale habitat restoration which will create natural resources for a number of important West Virginian species. Spotted skunks, Eastern Timber Rattlesnakes, Northern Flying Squirrels, Appalachian Grizzled Skippers, Bats, Hellbenders, and Cerulean Warblers have all taken up a small place in my heart that has quickly molded into the shape of the 919,000 acres of Monongahela National Forest.
Working with a collective group of individuals, with different backgrounds, from the West Virginia Department of Natural Resources, Fish and Wildlife Service, United States Forest Service, West Virginia University, and many other agencies; I have found a place in the community of those whose passion for the outdoors and the environment has led them to make a living out of it. This sentiment is a connection we share, as a people, which goes deeper than simple commonalities. It brings all of us together and can truly make changes for future generations to enjoy and flourish in.