Posts Tagged ‘damaged tree’
Sad Looking
Interestingly, two of our saddest-looking trees out in the open happen to be next to each other on either side of our driveway. We’ve been watching the first one die slowly for several years.
According to one of the arborists who has done work on our property, it is some hybrid version of a maple. I’ve long been suspicious of the looks of the tangle of roots at its base. It is possible that it is choking itself. There is a seam up the trunk where I believe it cracked open during one of our extreme cold snaps. A large portion in the middle that was all dead wood has been cut out.
Even though it’s not pretty to look at, I am in no hurry to cut it down. I’ll let the portions that are still living continue to show off their tenacity. I suppose it aligns with my idea of appreciating imperfection.
The other candidate for saddest-looking is the remaining 25% of the big, old willow tree.
At just a fraction of its old self, the gaping wounds on the trunk from the three large sections that collapsed really make the tree look like it is doomed. However, given my experience with the neighboring willow tree that should be long dead in the small paddock, I won’t count this one out.
Do you see where Asher is in that picture? He and I had a little extra excitement yesterday. On a walk along the path around the hay field fence, he ventured off the mowed trail to take care of some business where we don’t need to pick it up. He started to return to the path after he was finished, but something caught his attention, and he was soon rustling around in the very thick, tall grass in the middle of the drainage swale.
Suddenly, there was an eruption of angry small-animal screeching as Asher and some critter got into a battle. Not being able to see anything through the thick growth, I hollered commands at him to leave it and come to me, but there was enough noise coming from the fracas that my shouts proved fruitless. It took me a few seconds to ramp up the level of his shock collar to where I got a response, but it worked to perfection.
He let me know with a yelp and an instant sprint from the scene to beside me on the trail. He struggled mightily with a pressing urge to return to the scene, requiring constant verbal redirects from me until we got back to the house. Even then, I was highly suspicious of him taking off to check it out again if I failed to pay close attention.
I’ve found reasons to choose alternate routes on our walks for the time being. It’s a good thing we have plenty of squirrels up around the house to hold his attention. Yes, squirrels in the trees, moles tunneling in the ground, and mice hiding in stumps are his usual targets. I’m inclined to guess it was a raccoon he found in the grass, and I’d rather he not tangle with critters that can put up a fight like those masked bandits do.
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Impressive Recovery
It’s hard to know for sure how long ago the top of this tree snapped off. One possibility that I find believable is a reported tornado that occurred in 2010, two years before we moved here. We could see plenty of evidence of severe chaotic tree damage when we arrived. In fact, there were so many large trees in various stages of fracture that their shattered remains grabbed attention much more than the wild sprouts of new growth that began to emerge in the aftermath.
The other day, while trying to keep up with Asher as he bushwhacked through our woods in pursuit of whatever critter scent he was detecting, one of those [no longer] new sprouts caught my attention.
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How did this growth succeed in getting that large at that remarkable dangling U-turn off the side of the original trunk? It has me wondering how much bigger it will be able to become.
There is a large opening at the bottom of the main trunk that reveals the center has been hollowed out by homesteading wildlife in the intervening years, as well as decay and fungal growth up above where the storm damage first occurred.
The odds of a long future for this tree don’t look all that promising, but the significance of that limb soaring straight up sure says something about resilience.
I love being able to witness this kind of resilience every time we wander through the woods. Now that I’ve spotted this tree clearly, I’ll be checking on it regularly through the seasons to keep track of its progress. Who knows which of us will outlast the other?
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