Vernal Pools
So Much Depends on Them
We’ve all said or done things that we later regret. Since I harbor more than my share of remorse, I will begin by sharing something I am not proud of. Something I have spent decades attempting to find atonement for.
Ohio is not a rock-climbing mecca by any stretch of the imagination, but some sandstone and limestone climbing areas are scattered about the state. John Bryan State Park, located just outside of Yellow Springs, has a limestone canyon called Clifton Gorge within its boundaries. In the late 1970s, these sheer limestone walls, called “slimestone” by most climbers due to their slick surface, was a popular climbing area.
One day, my climbing partner and I spotted a potentially new route: a thin crack running diagonally up an otherwise featureless face. New routes often require several attempts to determine the correct moves. Such was the case with this route.
We didn’t work out the climb on our first afternoon of climbing and began our hike out of the gorge in the late afternoon, intending to return the next day. On our way out of the gorge, we soon ran into a park naturalist who kindly informed us that the wall we had been climbing all day fostered several endangered plant species, including the rare snow trillium.
We returned the next day, and even though we now knew there were endangered plants in the area, we didn’t see any vegetation on the intended route, so we decided to complete the climb. About 20 feet from the summit, I placed a fisted hand into the crack as a hold, and in doing so, I dislodged a small plant that fell right at the feet of my belayer.
That evening, I received a call from my climbing partner. He said that after some research, he discovered the plant I destroyed was the snow trillium that the naturalist warned us about.
After hanging up, I felt nauseated and ashamed that I had prioritized climbing over the ecological health of this beautiful gorge. I had failed to realize the importance of every living thing on this planet and callously disregarded the naturalist’s attempts to inform us.
As is often said about extinction, “Earth’s whole is greater than the sum of its parts.” When one species is lost forever, another affected species will become endangered or extinct. Extinction for one species often spells extinction for others.
My actions shocked me, but the experience sparked a deep interest in ecology. More than a half-century later, I am still making amends by creating a bird habitat for the golden-winged warbler, a near-threatened species, and protecting a vernal pool on my property.
Author’s Note: The specific area where we were climbing is now a nature preserve, and climbing in this section of Clifton Gorge is prohibited. And rightly so, as naturalists found several more endangered plants and amphibians in the gorge.
Vernal Pools and why we need them
Last year, I purchased a five-acre woodlot containing old-growth white pines and a vernal pool, which is the focus of this article. So, let’s visit this unique but threatened ephemeral body of water.
As we head off, it is early morning, and shafts of sunlight illuminate the trail that weaves through massive white pines. The trail leads to a body of water few are aware of or know much about. The thick layer of pine needles under our boots makes the trail soft and cushiony.
As we approach the pool, tall black gum trees line the bank, encircling the entire body of water. When the trees are in full foliage, they shade the pool, keeping it cool, as preferred by the amphibians, including several species of frogs that live terrestrial lives in the forest except for the spring mating season.
Salamanders also utilize the vernal pool for mating and the deposition of eggs, called egg masses. Afterward, they return to the forest, where they live under- ground until the next mating season. The continued existence of these incredible creatures depends entirely on the fact that water is in the pool when it is most needed, in the spring.
That’s where the name “vernal pool” comes into play, distinguishing this unique body of water from other watercourses. Vernal means spring, and this is a crucial time of the year for amphibians.
As I cautiously approached the pool one day in early April, the spring peepers stopped their raucous chorus. Now, a month later, it has transformed into a pool teeming with tadpoles, the occasional fairy shrimp weaving its way through the larval stages of at least two species of frogs, wood and spring peepers.
Soon, the tadpoles will become froglets, losing their gills and tails but growing legs. By June, the froglets have developed lungs and are ready to transition to land.
My vernal pool is a short walk from my home on Caesar Mountain, where it is often called Caesar’s Pond. Neighbors have shared stories about ice skating on the frozen pool in winter in past years. A heartwarming Currier and Ives lithograph immediately comes to mind.
By definition, ponds are generally not seasonally dry unless purposely drained, whereas vernal pools are ephemeral, holding water in the spring and fall and drying up in the summer months.
Vernal pools have many names depending on their location, including isolated wetlands, ephemeral pools, woodland pools, and autumnal wetlands. At least one park employee has referred to a vernal pool in Watoga State Park as a bear wallow.
The vernal pool on my property dates back to the last ice age, perhaps 10,000 years or more. Last July, when the pool completely dried up, I dug several feet into the black peat-like soil, and it continued downward to an undetermined depth.
Vernal pools are necessary not only for obligate species such as amphibians and some reptiles but also for migratory wildfowl, songbirds, and mammals that drink from and seek protection in their waters. In other words, without vernal pools, we will lose many species of amphibians.
An estimated 200 frog species, and likely more, have already hopped down the path to extinction since the 1970s. That’s shocking, but you may ask why we need frogs anyway.
The American Museum of Natural History supports these amphibians, saying: “Frogs eat untold billions of insects each year, making them economically valuable to agriculture. They also provide a critical food source for birds, fish, snakes and other wildlife. But the most important contribution frogs make may be their role as environmental indicators.”
We are only beginning to understand and appreciate the ramifications for entire ecosystems when any plant or animal goes extinct. Nature is a complex system of interdependencies. And, like a house of cards, removing one card or species may cause the whole ecosystem to collapse.
As you walk through my forest, you will see pines and hardwoods towering above a forest floor carpeted with rattlesnake plantain, wintergreen, ferns, mosses, rhododendron, mountain laurel and partridge berry.
Upon approaching the vernal pool, the plant life dramatically changes to sedges, buttonbush and chokecherry in and around the pool. The shade from the black gums surrounding the pool and the dark peat at the bottom darken the water’s surface.
The water is actually clear, and if you stand still and gaze into it, you will soon see incredible numbers of tadpoles swimming about, as well as salamander egg masses and fairy shrimp, while water striders skate upon the surface of the water.
What you won’t see in a vernal pool is fish. Because they seasonally dry up, they cannot support fish.
You may be tempted to think that the bubbles often seen rising to the surface of the water are from the pollywogs, but instead, you’re witnessing the release of gasses such as carbon dioxide and methane as a product of the endless decomposition of organic matter that falls into the pool. If there are aquatic plants in the pool that photosynthesize, they release oxygen bubbles.
We are fortunate to have many of these aquatic amphibian nurseries in Pocahontas County. However, the U.S. has lost more than 50% of all wetlands, including bogs, swamps, marshes and other non-vernal bodies of water. As for vernal pools, we have lost over 90% of these critical habitats due to draining and property development.
Please don’t fill in or drain a vernal pool because you believe it is a breeding location for mosquitos. These pools have little attraction for pesky skeeters; they dry up in the summer, and, more importantly, mosquitos would be nothing but “what’s for dinner” to amphibians.
Now that you appreciate the importance of these ephemeral bodies of water for wildlife consider building an artificial vernal pool on your own property. I recently talked with Rosanna Springston, Visitor Services Information Assistant with the Forest Service, about their vernal pool program, a citizen-science program.
If you’re familiar with the Cranberry Mountain Nature Center, located at the intersection of Rt 39/55 and WV-150 in Pocahontas County, you may have visited its nearby human made vernal pool. This interpretive pool is only one of many that the Forest Service is establishing to protect amphibian breeding locations.
I recently discovered that West Virginia Save Our Streams has a program for citizen scientists interested in creating a vernal pool. The program is free and open to concerned citizens. In addition to a DIY vernal pool, you can get involved in their volunteer monitoring program.
The Save Our Streams website describes their citizen scientist program this way:
“The West Virginia Department of Environmental Protection (WVDEP), in collaboration with the State Division of Natural Resources (WVDNR) and the United States Geological Survey Amphibian Research and Monitoring Initiative (USGS ARMI), is excited to announce a series of Vernal Pool Monitoring Workshops set to take place across the state in 2024. These workshops aim to educate participants about the vital role of vernal pools in local ecosystems and train them in monitoring techniques to support amphibian conservation efforts.”
Whether you believe that man (Homo sapiens) is the pinnacle of evolution or that God commanded man in Genesis to “Have dominion over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth,” we are responsible for the welfare of all living things, however large or small. (Both beliefs are not necessarily mutually exclusive.)
Ironically and sadly, there is only one species on Earth whose extinction—and there are myriad ways this could happen—would benefit this little blue planet, and that is humankind.
Ken Springer
ken1949bongo@gmail.com