On Saturday, February 19, a low-burning forest fire pushed up the western slope of Shenandoah National Park, toward Jenkins Gap. The fire was an accident. Improperly disposed ashes from a wood stove ignited in the wind, and set the dry undergrowth aflame. By the end of that first day, the fire had crested the ridge and jumped Skyline Drive. The road and many surrounding trails were closed. Eight days later, after burning through nearly 2000 acres, the fire was extinguished and the area was safe for visitors.

On that eighth day, I walked through the ashes. Here is a little of what I saw:

The forest floor was blackened, and many trees were charred. But, these trees did not burn to the ground. In fact, it looks like the flames rarely reached more than a few feet in height, and the burn marks mostly ended within a foot of the ground. I found more than one leaf that was only half-burned. This does not look like the forest fires of our imaginations.

But, clearly, this region has burned. The smell of smoke was noticeable miles from the burn site. Charred trees are visible from Skyline Drive. In places, the forest floor is a moonscape. The leaf litter — a near-constant presence in deciduous forests — is gone. Burned away. In its place is a spongy layer of dirt and ash. If late-winter rains don’t wash this away, I imagine it will be excellent fertilizer for spring ephemerals, ferns and other opportunists.

As for the animals, I doubt this fire claimed many lives. The only evidence of death encountered? Snail shells. Dozens and dozens of them. They must hibernate in the leaf litter. What happens when a forest loses its snails? I can only imagine. As a gardener, I dream of being snail-free. Does this (surely temporary) absence help fuel the rush of green growth that typically follows forest fires? Or, is the forest snail free for such a short time that it really has no impact? I have no idea, but it makes me wonder.

The most amazing find of all? A half-burned lamb’s ear that looks like it’ll recover without a problem. In fact, in another two weeks, those fire-singed leaves might not even be visible. Pretty incredible.

It’s really still a few weeks before the rush of spring ephemerals will hit the ridgeline. In that sense, I wonder if the fire was timed perfectly? A few weeks earlier, and this nutrient-rich ash might have washed away with the last of the snow melt. A few weeks later, and the year’s toothwort and bloodwort and spring beauty might have been burned before they could bloom.

If a forest is to burn, is late winter the ideal time? I’m not sure, but I do wonder.