Posts Tagged ‘trees’
Wintervale Big Trees 3
[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 third tree I measured is just down the trail a bit from the first two and I referenced it in my notes as “chicken compost” because we used to dump the chicken manure beside it.
It is another maple tree. There are five maples in total in my survey.
Measuring a circumference of 101 inches, this maple calculates to approximately 145 years old.
I wonder what it was like in Iceland when this tree first sprouted from the ground…
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Wintervale Big Trees 2
[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 second tree I measured was chosen because it was right next to the first tree.
Based on the leaves that are hard to see because they are so high up, I believe it is an elm.
Measuring a circumference of 95 inches, this big elm calculates to approximately 120 years old.
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Wintervale Big Trees 1
[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 first tree I measured was chosen for its prominent location and because it was the tree that first caught my eye when we initially visited the property with the intent of purchasing these 20 acres.
It is a Maple with a big burl knot growing on it.
Measuring a circumference of 98 inches, this precious specimen calculates to approximately 140 years old.
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Prime Condition
This is departure day for our Iceland adventure. After we take care of walking and feeding animals this morning, we are off duty for a couple of weeks. When all the work of preparing the property for our extended absence was completed yesterday, I experienced a profound sense of appreciation for this place we are able to call home.
September is the best month of the fall season and the weather the last few days has been glorious. With the property freshly mowed and fence lines trimmed, it looks like a picture postcard around here.
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I am grateful for all the trees. In all the photos I’ve seen of Iceland lately, I don’t recall seeing trees. That will be part of the adventure for me. I am going to a place that is dramatically unlike the forests of my favorite places in the world.
While we are away on vacation, I’ve scheduled a celebration of the big trees I logged (get it?) a couple of weeks ago with a daily salute to each one. A forest with 200-year-old trees is practically the opposite of being in Iceland. For some reason, I like the contradiction of that.
Take care of yourselves while I’m gone. I’ll tell ya all about it when we get back.
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Mother Oak
We will be driving home today, leaving the comfort of lake-cooled air to barrel straight into the much-ballyhooed heat wave. I look forward to spending time among our big trees in the cool(er) shade beneath their canopies. Last week, I did a survey of many of our largest tree trunks to verify measurements of the circumferences.
The largest reading was 145” around a giant old oak that we already consider the mother tree of those woods.
From that measurement, calculation puts the tree’s age in the 220-230 years range.
If that’s accurate, it means that the tree started growing in that spot around 1800. The first thought this brings to my mind is curiousity over how it escaped being cut for lumber back when that was the primary industry. The second thought is that my ancestors were cutting and milling lumber in the county in the 1850s to 1880s.
I wonder if logs from this land we now own were ever skidded to the Isabelle Creek valley and the mills my ancestors, Stephen Hays and Joseph Sleeper worked near Esdaile.
I’ve been reading about the lumber industry in that era, including lumber baron David Joyce (1825-1904) and his son, William (1860-1909). I’ve reached the point in history when they were establishing Shell Lake, WI as a major hub of production.
It’s added perspective about a town we have driven through for decades on our way to and from our lake place. Shell Lake seems like a nice little family-vacation-on-a-lake spot these days, primarily due to the many RV campers parked along the shore.
Contemplating lumber history has me also feeling added perspective about our mother oak at home that our “Middle Trail” passes beside. My mind jumps to the 1800s when I look at it and contemplate its start. I find myself comparing it to the new saplings we keep discovering in our North Loop field.
Will they survive to still be around in 200 years?
I have a feeling the current heat wave will have me missing our lake today, despite my appreciation for being back among the big trees in our woods. No cutting of lumber is planned on our property any time soon.
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North Loop
I spent a fair amount of time in our north loop field yesterday morning and made an energizing discovery about how many young volunteer trees are thriving there.
For years after we moved here, we mowed down the tall growth in that section to the north of the driveway to control troublesome weeds from going to seed. It seemed like the prudent thing to do. Time has brought a change of heart for me. By not mowing the field anymore, we intend to nurture a future forest. There is still an issue with weeds to be dealt with but balancing that with embracing the appearance of new trees is a challenge we’ve decided to accept.
I was wading through the chest-high growth on a quest to pull vines that were starting to climb the existing pine trees in the area.
Almost immediately, I spotted a young sprout of oak leaves.
After uprooting any vines I could see, my mission shifted to clearing space around all of the young trees I could find.
There were an impressive number of poplar shoots that didn’t need any help in reaching sunlight. I found an elm. There are a variety of long and short needle pine trees showing up.
Of particular interest to me is the appearance of two sprouts of cedar trees, of which there are none anywhere in the surrounding area. I have no idea where these seeds traveled from.
When I finished my impromptu tree survey, I felt inspired for the future of this field. I also felt a mild trepidation over having visibly served up these gorgeous young trees as enticing nibbles for the resident deer herds that frequently bed down in the surrounding tall growth. Since the trees all showed up naturally, I’ve decided to let nature take its course, and if deer munch the tops off of some of these, so be it.
The final project I undertook in the north loop field was to mow a new viewing area where we’ll keep a couple of chairs for taking in the vista looking south from this high spot.
This idea came about from our animal sitter, John Bramble who mentioned that spot was a favorite for pausing to observe the view. He said it would be well-served to have a place to sit. I couldn’t agree more.
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Pickup Sticks
Those of us who love having trees in our yards enjoy an ongoing demonstration of how much branch-shedding is regularly happening. There are always sticks and twigs landing on the ground beneath the canopy. Often there are finger-sized branches down. Occasionally, we find bigger branches in the mix, and every once in a while, a full limb drops.
I admit to subjecting the blades of our mowers to far more sticks and small branches than they deserve due to the sheer volume always hiding in the grass. When I wait too long between mowings, the number of branches gets too big to ignore. We’ve endured several days of on-again, off-again rain that stymied my plans to cut the grass around the house as soon as I wanted. Before I finally got around to the job yesterday, I needed to pick up sticks.
It doesn’t look that bad through a camera lens, but grasping each and every one by hand is an exercise of repetitive motion. Every time I turn around, I seem to find one that got missed. A wiser person might use a rake.
There is a mental reward for taking the time to clean up before mowing: peace of mind from not abusing the mower blades.
Of course, peaceful mowing is blissful mowing. And now the backyard is looking rather sharp (and stick-free) after yesterday’s cut if, I do say so myself.
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Photo Moments
Another fine day in the woods of northern Minnesota. Strong winds, warm temperatures, smoky haze-filled sky, swimming, eating like royalty, and ending the day with the spectacle of the opening ceremony of the 2024 Summer Olympic Games in Paris.
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Budding Signs
We are beginning to see hints of color on the tops of certain trees on the horizon. Many shrubs and bushes at eye level are sprouting tiny new leaves. Looking straight up, signs of life appear at the ends of high branches of tall trees. It won’t be long before we have trees with leaves again.
It’s been a while since we’ve experienced any high-heat days. Recently, our mornings have hovered around the freezing point but I don’t think it has been harsh enough to kill new sprouts. Grasses are going gangbusters and will require mowing soon or some areas will get out of hand.
In yesterday’s glorious sunshine, Asher stopped in the middle of a walk to lie down in the shade and watch the natural world unfolding before us. I decided to sit down with him.
In less than 30 seconds, I spotted a wood tick walking across the front of my shirt. Despite that unwelcome reality, we enjoyed the spectacle of a bird in a tree over our heads that seemed to be practicing every call or song he had ever heard. I never once noticed a repeated sound. Up and down; high and low; trills, chirps, whistles, yodels, slides, chatters, singsong melodies… it seemed to have it all. The “Rich Little” of bird calls.
I guess the budding sights of spring were inspiring that bird to sing in the extreme.
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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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Relative Something 