Enchantment at the Champion Tree

During my week exploration of the White River National Wildlife Refuge (NWR), the experience I’ll always remember is time spent sitting in the company of a millennium-old Bald Cypress and a Barred Owl.

My park liaison, Matt Connor, who early in the week gave me a tour of Moon Lake and Indian Bayou, suggested that I visit the Champion Tree, a Bald Cypress estimated to be between 1000 and 1500 years old. He and the Youth Conservation Corp, high school student volunteers, built the trail to this truly ancient tree in the summer of 2007.

Read Connor’s article on this endeavor in his Refuge Writings at
http://www.fws.gov/whiteriver/

From the park office, I traveled several miles (on Rt 17) heading to the small hamlet of Ethel and then a few more on a narrow country road, which led to Refuge Road and my entry point. Within the refuge, I traveled a mile on a gravel road, crossing a car-width bridge over high water and shortly after arrived at the trailhead. The hike in was a mere 1.2 miles and this on a beautiful April day. I heard many birds, recognizing only some. However, I can tell you that woodpeckers thrive in the refuge! Pileated and Red-bellied Woodpeckers as well as Northern Flickers were everywhere calling.

Walking along this beautiful—though sometimes wet—walk (recent heavy rains had turned portions of the trail into lagoons), I heard two Barred Owls calling one to the other. I felt right at home; these owls often call within the woodlands adjacent to my property.

And so I arrived, reverently approaching the Champion Tree, majestic in its size and age. I sat on the ground, back propped against the trunk of a more ordinary tree, and stared at the Bald Cypress, who even then stood within a channel of water. The photograph I provide here, taken from a brief video, reveals the buttresses of its massive base. (Read my April 7 post, “Notes from Arkansas” to learn more about the species of Bald Cypress.)

I tried to imagine the world from which this mammoth tree sprang as a seedling. At that time, native peoples inhabited the continent; Europeans would not turn their attention to North America for another five hundred years, that is, if the tree were only a thousand years old. If 1500 years, then those people across the Atlantic Ocean would yet be living in the Dark Ages! And yet before me this same tree grew, alive and strong.

I knew the place must be sacred.

As I sat thinking, looking high into the branches of a neighboring Bald Cypress, perhaps only a few hundred years old, I saw something perched on a limb. Grabbing my binoculars, I guessed at its identify, based on the stocky build, and then to my delight discovered the reality—a Barred Owl! (See a beautiful photograph of a Barred Owl (by Robert Synder) in the Meet the Birds page of this Web site.)

I have often heard but never seen a Barred Owl in the woods. The creamy-colored, round-face owl (striped by the bars from which it gets its name) stared down at me for a bit. But, apparently, I was not that interesting and so he resumed the business of an afternoon nap.

Now I knew the place to be sacred. I sat there a bit longer, thankful of the company, and then rose to leave.

Until next time . . . happy birding!

Georgia Anne