A picture is worth a thousand words. But even professional photographer Michael Oppenheim admits that 15,000 frames can’t fully realize the primordial tenor of a Southern Appalachian bog.
Five years ago, when he was lugging equipment through McClure’s Bog, a 15-acre site owned by The Nature Conservancy in Henderson County, Oppenheim battled mosquitoes and thorns. A small creek was nearby, though hidden by dense vegetation. Oppenheim settled on a game trail that was cleared by cattle when a farmer owned the parcel. Wildlife native to the microclimate includes the bog lemming (a grayish vole) that gets hungry for sedge roots.
But the appearance of a lemming would have marked an eventful day. These swampy, humid habitats are quiet, after all.
“You could drive by this place and never know it was here,” says Oppenheim. And that’s part of the problem. Over the past 100 years, farming and urban development have decreased the number of bogs by 90 percent. TNC wildlife biologist and stewardship manager Adam Warwick says the Etowah holding is one of five French Broad Valley Bogs, a subtype of the Southern Appalachian Bog, in North Carolina.
“People buy land and want to farm it, so they pile up dirt and cut ditches to drain wet areas,” he explains. “If that’s not happening, then habitat often sits within a matrix of houses.”
Most development isn’t malicious, just misinformed. Realizing this, Oppenheim began capturing diverse flora and fauna, for this and other Nature Conservancy sites. His photography project, A Year in the Life of a Mountain Bog, features giant, four-foot cinnamon ferns and rare carnivorous foliage, like the Mountain Sweet Pitcher Plant. He’s found frogs, duck eggs, and heaps of poison sumac. Some photos even document volunteers removing portions of the species in hazmat suits, a controversial decision (sumac is native to the bog, but was causing severe allergic reactions among some of the area’s regular stewards).
“If you don’t like the outdoors, a bog is going to be a sticky, hot, and uncomfortable place,” says Warwick, who has lost countless boots to knee-deep mud. “Of course, we think they’re awesome.”
By “we,” Warwick is speaking on behalf of countless biologists fighting to save mountain bogs from myriad threats (nutrient runoff, drought, and development). He says scientists can talk all they want, but conservation really boils down to connecting people with nature.
“Folks aren’t going to provide support for a place they don’t have an appreciation for,” he says.
Since most bog locations are kept hush-hush to stave off poaching — turtles are often sold illegally online — a picture will have to do for now.
“When I first started shooting, the pitcher plants were dried up and brittle,” says Oppenheim. “When I finally saw them in full bloom, the deep crimson flowers were amazing.”
“A Year in the Life of a Mountain Bog” opens Saturday, July 15, and runs daily, 9am-5pm, through Sunday, October 1, at the North Carolina Arboretum Education Center (100 Frederick Law Olmsted Way). See ncarboretum.org for more information.