Clemson University Forest

The trail this morning was strewn with confetti. Sourwood and sparkleberry blooms loosed overnight, cherries fallen and softening into the duff. A northern parula trilled somewhere in the canopy. Chanterelles had pushed up gold through the leaf litter. Blackberries were turning from red to black along the edges. The air was thick: humidity, pollen, and the green exhale of the forest itself.
Much to my regret, I can sometimes keep a quiet ledger of what I lack and it will keep me from being present. I ruminate over the scarcity of time, things, people; it is way too easy to walk through a whole season counting what is missing.
But the forest does not hoard, and it does not lack, it simply offers. The chanterelle was going to fruit whether or not I came looking. The Parula's song was warbling through the air regardless. The gift was in being there to receive it.
Maybe abundance is less a condition than a discipline of attention. This morning,I was not focused on scarcity and for that I'm grateful.

Northern Parula image by Imtiaz Haque

Ponderings & pics by PAWhitener

The Clemson University Forest as a research engine for the whole university for over 90 years - a brief introduction

blogs.clemson.edu

There's a phrase we use so often it can start to sound like a slogan: the Clemson Family. Worn smooth by repetition, easy to file away under marketing.
And then a morning like this one arrives to remind you it was never just a phrase.
Today I had the honor of joining Assistant Forest Manager Travis Schmitt and the Clemson Alumni Association to lead a group of Golden Tiger alumni on a waterfall hike through the Clemson University Forest. We walked them through its history, its mission, and the management plan that keeps these acres healthy for the generations still to come.
What struck me most? They were as curious and engaged as any 4-H youth I've ever worked alongside — asking questions, leaning in, noticing the small things. Decades after Clemson shaped them, they came back to these hills to reconnect with the place and with each other.
That's the milestone worth marking. Not the years that have passed, but the proof that the roots still hold.
There really is something in these hills. 🐾

Pics & ponderings by PAWhitener

My walking companion, Josie B., takes the forest in from twelve inches up. So does the pipsissewa (Chimaphila maculata). The name means "winter-loving". It is a native wildflower barely four inches tall. Its striped, mottled leaves hold their green all year, while the waxy white blooms nod for just a few weeks. Get low, belly to the ground, to catch their faint sweetness. Slow to grow, its seeds lean on hidden soil fungi to take root. This little plant rewards patience over spectacle and the partnership with fungi is why it resists transplanting easily.
This is how most real change works. Not the floods and clear-cuts that make the news, but small, consistent things, repeated. A kindness. A walk. Picking up a piece of trash. Opening to a different perspective. A seed finding its fungus in the dark. These micro moments add up in a forest, and in life. What might we miss, walking tall? The small things were never small.

pics & ponderings by PAWhitener

🚒Attention! A large tree has fallen on Issaqueena Lake Road, and the rain is causing washouts. We have closed the road until further notice. The road, parking areas, and trailheads were cleared. Thank you.🌳

There is a simple gratitude I get when walking a well-worn trail. Trail work weaves ecological science and community-building when viewed through the lens of the Clemson University Forest. It connects the physical work of building and maintaining trails to the larger vision of research, forest management and recreation. We are all following blazes someone else marked, and marking blazes for those who come after. What does your pathway look like today?
Follow the blazes. 🌿
https://blogs.clemson.edu/cuforest/following-the-blazes-trails-community-and-the-web-of-life/

https://news.clemson.edu/clemson-university-forest-launches-data-hub-to-expand-research-recreation-and-stewardship/

Clemson University Forest launches Data Hub to expand research, recreation and stewardship The Clemson University Forest is opening a new digital window into one of the University’s greatest natural assets. The newly launched Clemson University

One of the first biologists in the country to take Wild Hog invasion seriously was Dr. Gene Wood of Clemson University. Now retired, he has written a blog post for the CU Forest titled: "A Biological Bomb: the Feral Hog Invasion".

We thank Professor Wood for his informative and thorough contribution!

A Biological Bomb: The Feral Hog Invasion – Clemson University Forest A Biological Bomb: The Feral Hog Invasion Posted on May 14, 2026May 14, 2026 by baldwi6 Gene W. Wood, Professor Emeritus Dept. Forestry and Environmental Conservation Clemson University The issue In 2025, the United States Department of Agriculture estimated that feral hog populations had caused $1....

If you enjoy the trails in the Fant's Grove area, please take a moment to give volunteer John Seegers a big "thank you"!

What John took on as a repair project became a restoration project for this bridge on the Red Trail behind the Fant's Grove parking area.

He cleaned off about 3" of mud from the entire deck, replaced three rotten boards, cleaned out all the gaps between boards, cleaned off the end anchors, and opened up the drains.

These actions will extend the life of that bridge for years to come!

The Clemson University Forest relies on volunteers to help maintain the trail system. We are coordinating volunteer groups with projects so if you are interested in helping, let us know.

We have made time into a commodity. We spend it, waste it, save it, lose it. We chop it up into quarters, semesters, and deadlines. "Hurry! Act now. Don't miss out. Time’s a wastin’!"
I have multiple alarms set on my phone to remind me of what I’m “supposed” to be doing at any given time of day.
One of my favorite poets, Mary Oliver, in her poem "From the Book of Time," offers a different way of thinking about this construct of time. Maybe just looking and listening is the real work.
I thought of her words when I came upon a Fraser’s magnolia (Magnolia fraseri) in bloom. And just beyond it, a tulip-poplar (Liriodendron tulipfera), both members of the order Magnoliales, a lineage so ancient it predates the very insects we associate with flowers. Bees had not yet arrived when magnolias first opened. Butterflies were millions of years away. The magnolia's pollinator is the beetle, drawn in by scent and rewarded with protein-rich pollen. This relationship was forged in the Cretaceous over 100 million years ago. There definitely weren’t any clocks around.
If a magnolia understands time at all, it understands it as a deep, patient commitment to form. The magnolia does not know the deadline, but it does know the season, the spring emergence of the beetle. It knows how to bloom, and it has known this, without a lot of revision, for over a hundred million years. We measure life in decades. Magnolias measure in epochs.
And yet the Fraser’s magnolia, the bigleaf magnolia, the tulip-poplar: their flowers last days. Days. The beetle has always known this. Millions of years of knowing exactly when to show up without any notification or reminder. There is only the bloom, and then it's gone.

Ponderings and pics by PAWhitener
Bigleaf magnolia images by Cory Tanner