​The Smokies Are Changing—And It’s Not Just the Trees

I grew up camping in the Great Smoky Mountains. Every summer, my family would pack up the car, haul way too much gear, and set up camp under trees so tall they seemed to scrape the sky. Back then, the woods felt wild and endless—like nothing could touch them.

But if you go there now, it’s different. And not in a “Wow, they upgraded the visitor center” kind of way. Trees that stood for generations are dying, and it’s not just the cycle of nature. It’s an invasion. Tiny bugs you’ve probably never heard of—the emerald ash borer and the hemlock woolly adelgid—are taking out entire sections of the forest. The ash trees? Practically gone. The mighty hemlocks? Struggling to hang on.

Here’s the kicker: these invaders didn’t start here. They hitched a ride—on firewood, in the dirt on our boots, in shipments of trees and plants. They snuck in quietly, spread like wildfire, and now the forests I grew up in look more like graveyards in some places.

And that got me thinking: this isn’t just a tree problem. It’s a human problem. We bring things into our lives—habits, distractions, even relationships—that seem small at first. Harmless. Maybe even useful. But over time, they take root in ways we never intended, pushing out the good, the strong, the life-giving things. Just like those invasive species, they don’t show up with flashing lights and a warning sign. They slip in quietly. And if we’re not paying attention, we look up one day and realize what we loved, what made us feel alive, is barely hanging on.

So, what do we do? Well, in the case of the Smokies, we start small. We buy firewood where we burn it instead of hauling it in from somewhere else. We brush off our boots before hiking in a new place. We support conservation efforts that help protect what’s left.

And maybe, just maybe, we take a second to look at our own lives and ask: What’s creeping in that doesn’t belong? What do I need to stop carrying with me? Because whether we’re talking about a forest or a person, the things we let in matter. And if we’re not careful, we might wake up one day and find out we’ve lost something we never meant to let go of.

The Smokies are changing. But we still have a say in what happens next.