Posts Tagged ‘trees’
Maple Weeds
They are everywhere. Young sprouts of maple trees grow like weeds on our property. Our perspective on that fact has evolved over the years we’ve lived here. We used to feel every tree was sacred and would struggle to cope with trees popping up in places that would become problematic ten or more years later. It led to plenty of attempts to transplant new sprouts to more suitable locations.
Our percentage of successful relocations was not very high. It gets a little depressing to put effort into trying to keep newly planted trees alive only to watch them wither and die within a year or two.
After enough years of witnessing the incredible number of new maple trees sprouting annually, we’ve developed a new confidence in taking lethal action against ones that show up where they are not wanted. Yesterday, I terminated a grove of new maple trees with extreme prejudice.
Now you see them…
Now you don’t.
This was an area near Cyndie’s gardens that we are trying to keep open to allow more sunlight to reach her plants.
The pile of little maple trees I had harvested shows that I was able to pull quite a few of them up by the roots. I much prefer doing it that way whenever possible, but it takes a toll on my hands, wrestling with stems that almost come free but eventually require a tool. When we have to cut the stem at the ground level, it usually leads to needing to come back later and cut again after new shoots appear from the same root system.
The ubiquitous presence of new maple trees sprouting everywhere they shouldn’t has me starting to refer to them as maple weeds.
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Willow Buds
The maple sap should be flowing this weekend with our overnight temps dropping below freezing and daytime rising above. Yesterday, we noticed the big willow tree was looking rather anxious to be getting on with spring.
It inspired me to take a closer look at the buds getting ready to pop.
I sure hope the tree knows what it’s doing. Growing things don’t tend to waste time when the hours of sun increase in spring, and many of our trees look like they want to burst forth with leaves.
It breaks my heart when the weather messes with their timing and a hard freeze ends up killing new buds.
Reminds me what it’s like to have tariffs mess with my investment portfolio.
Instead of paying attention to that, because if I think about the state of things beyond the borders of our property it makes me cry, Cyndie brought out her bird-identifying app and we let her phone listen to all the birdsongs during our morning walk.
Of course, the song that was most prominent and wonderfully dramatic stopped as soon as she pulled out her phone. All the regulars were in full form but there were others of which I wasn’t aware and we couldn’t officially confirm.
Here’s a list of all the birds identified:
American Robin
Northern Cardinal
Blue Jay
American Crow
Red-winged Blackbird
Northern Flicker
Song Sparrow
Brown-headed Cowbird
Dark-eyed Junco
(later in the day… Red-Tailed Hawk)
I’d like to get a look at that Cowbird if it was truly present. We saw very few of these feathered friends listed while walking Asher. Without the use of an app for identification, it would all simply be the background soundtrack to our great outdoors.
Since we hadn’t made it to the barn yet, no pigeons were detected during the morning stroll but they are still around. Just not nesting in the eaves of the barn anymore.
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Vines Again
While walking through the woods yesterday with Cyndie and Asher, we decided to knock down as many of the broken and tipped trees and branches as we could reach and deal with using my pruning saw. Inadvertently, that ended up including freeing up some trees from the grip of vines as we came upon them. For as much energy we have put toward de-vining our trees over the years, it continues to surprise me to find how many we must have overlooked. In addition to that, there are plenty where vines were cut out previously but have resprouted, requiring another round of attempted eradication.
One common vine we have seen many times in the middle of the fully shaded woods grabs a firm hold on the bark and has a very impressive web of roots tangling great lengths across the forest floor.
Out of curiosity, I did some image searches for similar-looking vines on tree trunks, and to my surprise, the most common and repeated match identified it as poison ivy. Oops. Really?
I have a pretty good handle on identifying the three leaves of poison ivy plants and have never seen any greenery on these hairy vines on the trees, so I never connected the two. Also, I have never experienced a rash outbreak after messing with the vines in the woods, which surprises me since I react pretty easily when having contact with the low-growing plants in the sunny expanses around our property.
I consider myself lucky and will be giving these vines in the woods a little more respect when coming across them in the future. I will definitely be looking more closely for signs of the telltale leaves in the woods during the growing season.
Part of the problem probably stems from the fact that we don’t see very far into the thick woods off the trail during the growing season, and there are so many green leaves that we’re less likely to spot poison ivy leaves among all the others. Out on the edges where it grows in the sun, it is very easy to see.
While standing in the middle of a section of the woods off-trail yesterday, I spotted a curious pattern of young hornbeam (also called ironwood) trees that had sprouted around the trunk of a large poplar tree.
I am curious what led to this arrangement. The way the hornbeam trees are growing in something of a circle mimics the pattern of new growth after we cut down a tree, and the energy stored in the roots sends up a ring of new shoots around its circumference. Could something like that have happened here, and the poplar (a much faster-growing tree) just happened to emerge in the middle of them? I don’t really know what else to think, given my lack of education in the intricacies of tree species and their growth. Whatever, it is certainly an interesting sight.
Much more common and easy to identify are the numerous grapevines sprouting up from almost everywhere, but especially from places where we have cut them out before. That plant is VERY good at spouting new life from any fragments left in contact with the ground.
This time of year, before any leaves have sprouted open, is prime time for us to do vine hunting… again.
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Firewood Down
With a nod to Steve, who taught me that standing dead trees are simply verticle firewood storage, the latest high wind day we experienced brought two trees down across our trails on opposite ends of our property, and one of them was prime for cutting and splitting to burn.
The other tree was small enough that I was able to dispatch the limbs with our electric hand chainsaw pruner and stack the branches for removal to the north border of our property, where we are building a natural barrier along the fence line.
Wandering around in the woods in the vicinity of where I sawed logs from the larger tree, I started taking updated pictures of the multiple other trees that have succumbed to wind events. I think these have been shown in previous posts, so you may recognize several. None of them are across a trail, so I haven’t needed to do anything about them.
A couple of large poplars are hung up in adjacent trees and will present a significant challenge to bring down if we ever decide that needs to happen.
Unless a future big wind day succeeds in finishing the job, I intend to let the green growth of spring and summer cover up views of these trees. Out of sight, out of mind. Luckily, none of the “leaners” threaten to fall across a trail.
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Just Stuff
When on an expedition having nothing to do with society’s news of the day, one finds things of lesser significance can have a more dramatic impact than they otherwise might. With my mind protected from the gloom of current events during the last few months, I’ve found myself noticing more details about my immediate surroundings during daily walks.
The other day, I noticed some of our trees with an abundance of new shoots sprouting from the lower trunks. My intuition told me the trees were reacting to something, and when I figured out they were all ash trees, I knew what that was. The emerald ash borer is taking a toll on our region, and it seems our turn has come. I learned the new growth is called Epicormic Sprouts, revealing a tree’s effort to survive stress.
In addition, closer inspection revealed birds are chipping away at the outer bark to get at insects beneath. This gives the tree trunks an orange hue that makes them easy to spot from a distance. I was pointing it out to Cyndie yesterday, and we counted a handful of the largest affected ashes. I’ll be watching to see how long it takes them to die.
Meanwhile, we will continue to nurture new growth showing up in our oak, maple, elm, poplar, and spruce & pine tree populations.
This time of year, it is easier to spot the trees that have broken or tipped and are hung up in surrounding branches. The large poplar in this photo is a doozy. That break is probably 10ft(3m) or more up from the ground. I won’t be taking a chainsaw to this challenging widow-maker.
Several trees in the vicinity of that one broke off at a similar height. None of the others got hung up. Must have been an interesting gust of wind to cause that.
A couple of snow flurries ago, our driveway ended up looking rather bovine in appearance.
I gotta tell ya; it’s a lot easier to laugh or be mesmerized by the crazy things I see around me every day while on this expedition of avoiding that which would break my heart and spirit were I to give it a chance. I admit to feeling guilty about having the privilege that enables me to turn away while others must look straight at it all and will be receiving the brunt of abuses underway.
Even as I try to ignore it, there are blips of evidence that get through with hints of difficulties looming for the world.
I’m looking at our stressed forest and laughing at our second snow-starved winter in a row. I’m dreaming of a new shade sail for the horses and marveling over how the four Thoroughbreds are evolving as a herd of rescued former racers and broodmares. Just local stuff must be the focus right now for my fragile mind.
We will be voting with all our might at our upcoming Wisconsin election.
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Almost Healthy
The splitting headache is no longer splitting, and her vital signs have returned to normal. Cyndie seems back to reasonably functional. She helped with horse chores and has taken Asher for a couple of walks in addition to a trip to the Post Office as Santa’s little helper. Goodies are in the mail, and the neighbors will find a bag of holiday cheer has been dropped at their doors.
At this stage of holiday preparations, it’s hard to tell that Cyndie was off her game at all.
In support of all her Elf-ish energy, I have been mining the far reaches of our Apple Music offerings to find appropriate holiday sounds. The first few notes of an Andy Williams Christmas album instantly transported me to a big old farmhouse on the border of Edina and Eden Prairie, MN, and the 5-year-old me arose from within my depths with visions of leaded tinsel being draped across branches from outstretched arms of a person standing on a folding ladder above me.
The result of that surge of nostalgia left me feeling lonesome for the clamor and banter of my siblings buzzing around me.
The branches of that family tree have sixty years of growth that have spread us out beyond the conveniences of frequent contact.
That 5-year-old me would only have his father around for 17 more years. I will always remember the time he almost convinced me that he had heard something on the roof in the minutes just before I showed my face one Christmas morning. I was old enough to know better, but I’d never experienced my dad putting on such a believable act before and was gobsmacked by it.
I like to think he was rewarded by the innocent astonishment that must have shown on my face.
Much less astonishment came over me when I stumbled upon news of a school shooting recently in Wisconsin. That innocence is long gone.
Looking at our trees, I was grateful they don’t need to know such things happen. Same with the horses. Then, I realized how attuned trees and horses are to the universe, which means they probably sense each and every atrocity through the connectedness of all things.
They keep calm and carry on their existence, and so should we. I’ll pretend we are almost healthy.
And now I miss the innocence of my 5-year-old self more than ever.
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Lethal Precision
My goal of policing our land for signs of the invasive scourge, common buckthorn, is in full swing this time of year. Yesterday, I headed back to an area by the road where I had already made a first pass through a few days ago. I was aware of several spots well into the thicket where sprouts of buckthorn remained.
Soon, I found myself on my hands and knees, doing battle against a tangle of branches to reach the swaths of still-green leaves. Some are very short and get gobbled up into fistfuls as I pull them from the dirt.
Taller shoots that I’m able to yank up by the roots get treated like trophies and as such, I hang them upside down in the branches of other trees to display the awesome dominance we have over the invader.
Actually, hanging them like that started as a way to ensure that the roots dried out and make it easy to see the unwelcome leaves had already been dealt with. If I just drop them on the ground, the green of the leaves continues to catch my eyes for a few days, making me think more attention is needed when it’s not.
I thought this effort would become easier every year, but I’m finding that hasn’t been the case. I don’t have to deal with large trees anymore, but the new little sprouts show up in new and different places every year, many of them deep in brambles and hard-to-reach places.
Basically, anywhere that birds like to perch since they are spreading seeds after eating the berries. They definitely like sitting in the protective confines of thick tangles of branches.
Keeping our land from being overtaken by this invasive nuisance is worth the effort based on the way our property looks compared to properties around us where we’ve never seen any effort made to address it. The buckthorn on surrounding land only gets thicker each year, while our property will become progressively more impressive in comparison.
I say more impressive because, in addition to removing buckthorn, we are also nursing along every volunteer oak, maple, poplar, cedar, elm, butternut, hickory, and several versions of pines that we find with equal precision.
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Wintervale Big Trees 12 and 13
[John and Cyndie are supposed to be home by now from vacation in Iceland with our friends, Barb & Mike. I decided to give myself one extra day before getting back to live posts because my original tree survey left out two beauties that I added later and I was on a roll when scheduling the big trees before we left.]
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The twelfth tree is an oak located outside the sunroom windows. It stands in the middle of our septic system drain field. It seems unperturbed by that fact.
Measuring a circumference of 134 inches, this oak is calculated to be approximately 200 years old.
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The thirteenth tree is the oak beside the driveway up by the house where delivery trucks have snapped low-hanging branches and stick debris constantly litters the pavement.
Measuring a circumference of 137 inches, this oak is calculated to be approximately 200 years old.
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Wintervale Big Trees 11
[John and Cyndie are currently on vacation in Iceland with our friends, Barb & Mike Wilkus. While we are gone, I am featuring the results of the big tree survey I did in August on our property.]
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The eleventh tree is an oak located between the kennel and the woodshed. My brother, Elliott climbed into this tree with ropes to trim some branches for me many years ago. That meant an awful lot to me. What a gift.
This tree is the second largest of the survey, just one inch bigger than its neighbor, the tenth tree by the kennel, and six inches smaller in circumference than the Mother Tree.
Measuring a circumference of 139 inches, this oak is calculated to be approximately 200 years old.
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Wintervale Big Trees 10
[John and Cyndie are currently on vacation in Iceland with our friends, Barb & Mike Wilkus. While we are gone, I am featuring the results of the big tree survey I did in August on our property.]
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The tenth tree is an oak located up the hill from the mother tree. It is beside the kennel where Delilah used to look up into it and bark after squirrels she knew must be up there, whether they were, or not. That drove me nuts.
Measuring a circumference of 138 inches, this oak is calculated to be approximately 200 years old.
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