Posts Tagged ‘trees’
Stunted Growth
For all the glorious trees we get to enjoy in our woods, there are plenty that are far from thriving. It can be frustrating to watch a tree year after year and not see healthy growth. I try to console myself with the fact that they haven’t completely died yet, but the way they linger for years without new signs of vigor just ends up being a long, slow slide toward eventually disappearing.
There are a couple of pines in our north loop field that serve as examples of what I am talking about.
In both cases, look at the fullness of the trees behind them. These scrawny trees are missing something the other trees are getting. I don’t know whether all the pines in this area were intentionally planted years ago, but I suspect most of them were, and I believe many of them were put in the ground with the roots poorly arranged. We’ve lost quite a few that looked like the trees were strangled by their own roots.
This field is also heavily trafficked by deer. They can be pretty ruthless on small trees. The little tree in the image above has a big portion of its middle munched. I’ve decided to gamble on letting the deer have some trees and hoping there will be enough other sprouts that grow past the most vulnerable stage and become future contributors to an overhead canopy I envision happening in our north loop field someday.
I don’t expect to have any ash trees being a part of that future.
If you’ve never seen the damage caused by the emerald ash borer beetle, we’ve got plenty of evidence for exhibit A.
There are probably as many ailing trees in our woods as there are healthy ones. A forest certainly isn’t a static system. Birth and death are happening constantly, so I never try to think of it as needing to exist in one specific way. I feel good about trying to help the more desirable trees flourish and being conscientious about controlling any takeover by invasives.
I’m choosing not to fight to avoid losing some types of trees and hoping that whichever trees successfully adapt to the warming climate and increasingly destructive storms will make for an inviting forest to visit for many years after I’m gone.
If we keep seeing occurrences of stunted growth like the pines in the north loop, that future forest I’m envisioning will just take a longer time to happen.
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Sawing Ironwood
A tree in our woods has been leaning over one of our footpaths for more than a week. Each morning, Cyndie and I check with each other for opinions on whether or not it is leaning a little more. It had a good number of long, thin branches tangling with surrounding trees and many tall, skinny trees that got bent over as the leaner came down, so I was in no hurry to do anything about it.
Recent winds brought it close enough down that it had become too hard to ignore.
Our kids visited on Sunday, and during halftime of the Vikings game, Julian and I went out to soak up some of that hot sunshine. I took him down to see the fallen tree and spontaneously decided to see if I could pull free the bent-over trees it had caught on its slow descent toward the ground. When that resulted in success, we then took a shot at helping the leaner to come down the rest of the way.
It was a dramatic enough change that I knew Cyndie would be shocked, so I told Julian we weren’t going to say anything about what we had accomplished and wait to see what kind of reaction we’d get.
While we were back in the house, up in the loft watching the second half of the football game, I received the following image via text from Cyndie on the floor below us:
I reacted with utter surprise and asked when that could have happened. She and Elysa knew it was recent since they had been out on the trails earlier and it wasn’t down. Then Julian and I let them know what we had done.
Yesterday, I used a handsaw to trim off all the small branches. Even though I soon discovered it was really dense wood, I ended up cutting everything necessary to clear it off the trail without resorting to the chainsaw.
I had my suspicions about what kind of tree it was, but I asked Cyndie to take a picture of the bark with her plant ID app to see what came up. American Hophornbeam, also called Ironwood because of how hard it is. Ironwood trees are scattered throughout our woods, but they can be hard to notice. It seems like they hide in plain sight by looking unremarkable.
For 25 years, we lived on Ironwood Court, but I never had a clue about ironwood trees until we moved here.
Most often, it seems that I end up figuring out that I’m dealing with ironwood when I start cutting into it. For a guy who really likes trees, I can sometimes be surprisingly oblivious when it comes to identifying them.
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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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Doomed Willow
While the willow tree “that should absolutely be dead” inside the small paddock continues to support enough of a crown of new growth to cast a reasonable shadow that the horses are so fond of, the massive beauty just a short distance away has now lost another significant percentage of its whole.
Last year, a huge portion sheared off under the weight of sopping wet branches after a soaking rain. We were concerned that the smaller limb next to that wound, which was leaning at a risky angle, might fall soon after, but it has held fast. The section that came loose yesterday was a complete surprise. It was on the other side and stood straight up before falling.
I’m afraid the remaining portion of the tree still standing is probably doomed to fail, too. I should probably chop off all that’s left and let it start over, as the undead one in the paddock has done.
The wind wasn’t even very gusty yesterday, which feeds my doubt about the integrity of the wood that remains. The tree now has gaping wounds on two opposing sides, poor thing.
I’m beginning to feel we are cursed when it comes to our large trees suffering damage of significant proportions. Only one of the four incidents since last summer was related to a storm gust.
Here’s hoping we don’t soon find out what happens when the next serious storm arrives to test the endurance of the rest of the trees in our little forest.
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Wet Start
Another day when we found ourselves feeding horses in a morning thundershower and finished the day under oppressively hot sunshine and high humidity. The rain allowed me a reasonable excuse to stay indoors and watch England’s victory in the World Cup. Harry Kane, how do you do it?!
In the afternoon, since the grass was too wet to mow, I put in more time trimming back the tall growth encroaching on our grass trails.
There are places where the tall grass has grown over my head height. When it gets wet and leans into the pathway, walking through it can leave a person soaked. I speak from experience.
After trimming the tall grasses, I reached the curve through the trees near the end of the north loop trail. Those branches reaching for sunlight can infringe on trail space even more than the grasses. The hedge trimmer allows me to create an even-walled border along the pathway.
I suspect that part of the trail could eventually become a tunnel if the tree branches overhead fill out enough on both sides. It’s so different from the winter when there are no leaves on the trees, and you can see right through.
My new favorite work gloves have held up well against the abuse I’ve been putting them through. The last few days, they have stayed wet due to the high humidity. There is something about them that is bugging me, though. I think they sewed on a finger in place of the thumb on the left glove.
It’s a nuisance, but since it’s on the left hand and I am right-hand dominant, it only occasionally affects what I’m trying to accomplish. Still, it irritates that OCD part of my nature. Ever since I first noticed it, I haven’t been able to unnotice it, and it nags at me repeatedly.
We ended the day watching the USA match against Bosnia-Herzegovina.
The day started wet, but finished with a win! On to the round of 16. I’m not sure I can handle going much further in the tourney.
I’m sure glad these aren’t best-of-7 series playoffs.
Things will pick up this weekend when the Tour de France 21-stage bicycle race starts. The weeks ahead are going to be filled with more televised spectator sports than I can sit through daily. I’m sure happy to be free from trying to balance employment responsibilities with sports watching.
Catching competitions live is the best, and watching the stages in France means prime morning hours here.
Maybe we can get even more morning showers while the bike race is happening.
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Busy, Happy
The first pass through the group stage for each team in the 2026 Men’s World Cup has been completed. Today begins the series of second matches for the groups. For the broadcasters and the fans, there is no rest. I don’t know how a person is supposed to watch each exciting moment and also continue to fulfill their daily responsibilities. Sacrifices need to be made.
I will miss seeing the first game today because I will be driving Cyndie and Elysa to the airport for their flight to Amsterdam, and ultimately, Norway. It’ll be Asher and me managing the ranch for the next 11 days.
We won’t be completely on our own, though. We’ll have the support of our property-guard-snakes keeping watch over the goings on around here.
The bigger of these two knows its way around the shop garage. I spotted it the other day, slithering on the top edge of a stack of cardboard leaning against one wall, about chest height.
That explains the discarded snake skins we frequently find in the vicinity. I sure hope they are controlling the rodent population in the building.
I started scrubbing the wood paneling of the shop/garage yesterday, but had to hold off on sanding it until the rain stops and the wood dries. We have retained the services of a log building expert to repair and reseal areas of both this building and the house, and I will be doing as much of the prep work as possible to reduce the cost of the project.
In addition to that work happening while Cyndie is away, we are expecting a visit from This Old Horse personnel with vaccines for the horses, a farrier appointment, a first-time house-cleaning appointment by a local start-up business out of Ellsworth, and I need to drive Asher to a grooming appointment in Baldwin.
Between all of that, I need to keep up with the usual mowing and, if possible, continue trimming back the vigorous growth encroaching on our grass trail around the north loop and all of the trails through the woods.
The fluttering leaves of the poplar trees down by the road were putting on a show in the breeze between rain showers when I rolled our trash and recycling bins down yesterday evening. There is a pretty healthy expansion of that grove, which we are very happy about.
As I reached the top of the first rise in our driveway and took in the view of the variety of lush trees beyond the barn and hay shed, I felt a deep appreciation for our little forest.
It is always such a striking difference from the months when all the branches are bare after the leaves drop off in the fall. When our trees look happy, it brings me great joy. Despite how muddy it has made the area just beyond the barn overhang, I am grateful that the rain over the last few days appears to be providing the trees with all the hydration they need at this time.
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Riding Gravel
As nature is hovering around the point of total explosion of spring growth, some trees seem so delayed compared to others around them that I get concerned they may no longer be living.
Cue my dread over the way the seven-year-old transplanted maple tree in the labyrinth went from vibrant to dead in a matter of months when it didn’t sprout a single hint of new buds one spring.
Our oaks are always slower than most of the rest of our trees. The overly tall Miss Kim Lilac tree is already green, and the maples have a yellowish hue in their early stages of leaf emergence.
That Miss Kim in front of the house has long looked confused over living or dying. One of the sections will completely dry up, and the rest will burst forth with aromatic white flowers. It currently has a healthy new stalk sprouting in the middle, which had me thinking about pruning the height down to let the new shoot compete for dominance. Mostly, I resort to interfering as little as possible.
With all that blue sky yesterday and the ground too wet to mow, I decided to give my bicycle some overdue attention.
After refreshing my tubeless tires with sealant and cleaning the drivetrain, I hit the road on an exploratory route to visit friends who live about ten miles north of us. After riding this bike on gravel roads and bike trails for the last two years with friends who have “gravel bikes,” I’ve become much less averse to going off-pavement.
The road tires on my bike are 32 mm and, for the most part, smooth. I have been surprised by how well they have performed on the different versions of gravel. Yesterday, I decided not to let our many unpaved roads inhibit my route choices and confidently forged ahead with the most direct path to my intended destination.
My secret weapon is the electric assist on this bike that makes the effort needed on gravel feel almost equal to riding on pavement.
After stopping for a quick visit and a glass of water at our friends’ place, I was uncertain about which road to pick for my return home. While stopped to check the map on my phone, I was alarmed to suddenly notice air leaking from my front tire.
I placed my finger on it and noticed it was wet with sealant trying to do its job. I quickly spun the wheel to redistribute sealant and decided to make haste for home, hoping the constant spinning would avoid further leakage.
Now I don’t feel a need to justify buying new tires, and I can pick something with a tread intended for a wider variety of surfaces. This will open up the surrounding area to unlimited exploration pedaling for me. Plotting routes on the map is a challenge when trying to limit myself to pavement out here in the country.
That leaves only not knowing how steep the hills I encounter will be on untraveled roads in this undulating, driftless region where we live. That decision to go with an E-bike is one I will never regret.
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Some Miscellany
On our morning exploration through the woods yesterday, one of our weird trees caught my eye. It’s kind of hard to photograph, but I tried anyway.
There is a tree right behind it that complicates the view, but if you focus on the closest large trunk, you will find that it snapped off, but a limb pointed toward the ground did a 180 and started growing upwards.
It’s gotten tall enough to compete for sunlight in the overhead canopy. I can’t imagine the success of that wild U-turn growth is going to last indefinitely. Try to picture if it could live long enough that the trunk of the post-incident growth grew as wide as the base portion.
Trees can do some amazing things. Not that I’m still bitter about it… Well, yeah, I’m still bitter that the maple tree I transplanted into the center of the labyrinth gave up without warning after 7 years of promising growth. Why couldn’t it have shown the fight to survive that this tree exhibits?
The big barn doors were frozen solid again yesterday morning, but I wrestled them loose once more around noon, and the delivery of feed happened about an hour later.
When Asher and I arrived to work on the doors, I had left the small door open to indicate we were expecting the driver. Inside, we surprised a pigeon and a squirrel that had taken advantage of the opening.
I didn’t see the pigeon’s exit, but I saw the squirrel trying to hide way up high in the eaves. Poor Asher whined over knowing it was there but not being able to do anything about it.
When the delivery arrived, I left Asher in the house, and when I got to the barn, it appeared empty of intruders.
I paused to capture the state of melting ice on Paddock Lake in the afternoon. I’ll be surprised if it lasts two more days at the temperatures we are enjoying lately.
The horses will likely be holding a splashing party very soon.
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Different Textures
Natural
Growing
Alive
Variations
Pointy
Green
Rows
Repetition
Furrows
Pattern
Rumpled
Beige
Choosing to capture an image can be a random decision for me. There are many more times when something catches my eye but I don’t take a picture of it than the occasions when I do. Oftentimes, the reason I don’t try is related to the limitations of a camera lens compared to the naked eye.
Long ago, I learned how often a fascinating spectacle for my eyes ends up becoming a very ho-hum image in 2D on a flat surface. That may explain why my interest evolved toward an affinity for close-up images that fill the frame with textures.
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Helping Trees
With the intense growth of summer beginning to wane just a little, we can better see into the woods to spot vines that are climbing our trees and uproot them. This week, we have been noticing them while walking Asher in the morning and pausing only briefly to tend to one or two near the trail. It tells me that the chore deserves a more focused trek through the woods to address any less obvious others away from the trail.
I’ve also been thinking about the young volunteer trees we discovered growing in our north loop field, and wanting to check on them. I did a little research on ways to best help young trees and found that nurturing root growth with water and mulch was a frequent suggestion. This gave me a fresh use for the composted manure stockpile I’ve been wanting to distribute.
After a recent turning of an old pile, I was thrilled to see the temperature had climbed back to over 150°F in the middle, indicating the microbial breakdown activity was far from complete.
The piles that are no longer cooking need to be distributed to make space for the daily new loads cleaned out of the paddocks. I decided to haul some up to use around the base of the young trees in the north loop field.
The first thing I discovered is that the poison ivy in that field is spreading farther and farther away from the spot where it was originally established. The second thing I found was that there are little oak trees showing up all over the place.
There are so many that I gave up trying to put mulch around all of them. Some trees will just have to fend for themselves. We get a fair amount of pressure from deer in that field, and I’ve known that young trees are all at risk of getting munched on, but since there are so many things growing there, I’m willing to sacrifice a few for occasional deer treats.
Among all the grasses and weeds growing around and over the volunteer oak trees popping up, there are also a few pine trees, many poplars, and two specific known cedar trees. I trudged back and forth many times in search of the smaller of the two cedars, using a huge pine tree as a reference.
It was hiding well, but when I finally came upon it, I was standing right where I thought it would be.
It doesn’t look much taller than it was last year when we first found it. It remains at risk of getting chomped. That might be enough to inspire me to offer it a little protection, since I’m fond of the added species variety it brings us.
Gotta protect the top as much as the roots down below!
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