Posts Tagged ‘trees’
Big Effort
On a walk through the woods yesterday afternoon we came upon evidence of an industrious effort scattered beneath one of our large trees.
Little pieces of the tree had fallen in a wide array around the tree, leaving the snow peppered with holes. The first reaction was to look up to see where this was all coming from.
The gaping hole high up in the trunk of the tree was easy to spot. We didn’t know the project was still ongoing until Cyndie saw new pieces of wood falling near us.
There was so much wood shrapnel scattered on the ground, our assumption immediately leapt to visions of a large woodpecker, but that wasn’t the case.
There was a little chickadee busily hopping around and tossing down pieces of the tree. I have no idea why it would want to have such a large opening. The tree probably wasn’t very happy about the size of the wound. This has me wondering about the longevity of this tree. I’m not very skilled at deducing the well-being of trees when they have no leaves.
I’ll need to keep an eye on it next spring and summer to see if the end is near. It won’t surprise me much if turns out to be in the process of slowly dying as trees tend to do. We already have a rather significant number of old trees with the largest diameter trunks that are showing evidence of decline.
It’s giving me more incentive to nurture as many of the trees as possible with the next-largest trunks to give them the best chances for prolonging their years of continued growth. Ours is definitely not an “old-growth” forest, but it has a decent number of trees that are old enough to be mother trees.
We want to help allow our trees to be able to help one another as much as possible.
I should probably give them more hugs.
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Lower Branches
There was a time when I neglected to put effort and energy into trimming the lower branches of pine trees, especially ones growing in the natural field on the north side of our driveway. I’ve changed my mind.
My old thinking was that trees out in a forest don’t have people trimming branches. I wanted nature to be able to take its course. My new thinking is that pine trees look better when their growth is managed, and the sooner, the better.
Over the weekend, I was able to give some of our long-neglected pine trees fresh attention and found myself surprised by what I learned. Even though we strive to always pull out vines that start growing up our tees, unseen vines were making their way up most of the trees I trimmed.
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The tool of the hour, day, and weekend was my Stihl GTA 26 cordless chainsaw pruner. Even in cold temperatures, the battery lasted longer than I did. That saw is perfect for this chore.
After seeing how poorly some of the trees have grown, in terms of putting energy into long lower branches instead of strong leaders gaining overall tree height, I made a point to start early on all the young trees I came across.
Why wait?
While I worked, I had Asher tethered to my hip on a 30-foot leash, occasionally enticing him with dropped handfuls of his food bits for him to snuffle through the grass to find. His patience lasted until he spotted someone walking on the road. That led to extreme straining against the leash and annoyingly desperate barking.
After a lunch break, I decided to reward his mostly good behavior of the morning with a chance to play off-leash. He did not make me proud. Sprinting directly from our front door to the neighbor’s woods in pursuit of squirrels, he disrespected every attempt I made to entice him to return.
He nosed around in their woods, extending the distance away from me with each zig-zag. When he got out of sight, I headed off across the cornfield to intercept him but by the time I got there, I spotted his paw prints headed in the direction of the neighbors’ place with the outdoor cat.
Fool me twice… shame on me.
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Field Finds
I’m still feeling excited about the number and variety of new trees sprouting in our north loop field we discovered the other day. Just the fact they are appearing without any help from us is so rewarding.
Two types of long-needle pine and three oak varieties look to be two or maybe three years old.
I am really glad I stopped mowing that field and that this is what has resulted. Granted, we also have a large spread of thistle in one area and poison Ivy in another which were the reason to mow those acres in the past. We may still need to find ways to deal with the problem weeds beyond ignoring them in hopes they’ll go away.
Maybe selective mowing for the thistle, like using the power trimmer. I don’t dare use that on the poison ivy.
Now that we’ve found these young trees, we should probably put energy into protecting them from foraging deer. We know about “bud capping” the leader of pines with a stapled piece of paper. I would prefer that option over trying to fence around the young trees.
We already have been watching three young pines for the last year that sprouted closer to the driveway and debated stapling caps to those. I don’t understand what our hesitation is to doing so beyond a willingness to take a risk. I expect part of it is that, thus far we’ve gotten away with doing nothing. If one of them gets munched, I expect it will spur us into action to protect others.
Not necessarily sound logic, I admit.
There are plenty of tasks awaiting attention that linger unfinished. I was looking at several piles of tree limbs we have stacked in the woods for chipping. Days have turned to months, and now years in which we have gone no further than creating the piles.
Asher really wanted to get into one of those piles yesterday, I assume after a cute chipmunk or rabbit’s nest he could smell. I let the easier task of mowing the labyrinth and part of the front yard get my attention in the afternoon.
I suppose that’s the reason I’m so thrilled with the young trees showing up in the field. We didn’t need to put any effort into making that happen beyond giving nature the time and space to do its thing.
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Eleven Years
In October of 2012, Cyndie and I packed everything we owned and moved from Eden Prairie, MN to the property we named “Wintervale” in Beldenville, WI. I am very lucky to have a record of the process and everything that has happened since preserved in the archived posts of Relative Something.
We spent a little time yesterday looking back at pictures we took eleven years ago and marveled over some of the changes. We found one of me sitting on the Ford New Holland 3415 diesel tractor with the manual open to the “Instrument Panel” information.
There is also a photo of the one and only time Cyndie drove that tractor.
The bucket is filled with debris we were clearing out from the space beneath the barn overhang. The previous owners had stored gates, fence posts, and a bunch of firewood under there. It’s been the primary hangout space for horses ever since.
On a walk yesterday, I tried to take some pictures from a vantage point similar to ones from eleven years ago. It wasn’t easy to find the exact same spot.
October 2012
October 2023
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I tried using the top part of the barn visible in the shots above to line up a reasonable comparison. There’s no longer any sign of the shop garage or the house roof from that hill. It’s nice to see how much the evergreen trees have grown. In the 2012 photo on the left, the willow tree that is visible became fenced inside the small paddock and is now nearly dead.
There was an incredibly warm day in 2012 that inspired us to cook dinner outside over an open fire for visitors, Elysa and Ande.
October 2012
October 2023
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It is easy to see that there are more leaves remaining on the trees in 2023.
October 2012
October 2023
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That spruce has gotten a little taller.
I’m curious how much growth might happen in eleven more years. While walking through the area we call the North Loop –which over the years has been cut for hay, fenced in for grazing horses, and now allowed to grow wild– I was surprised to discover several new pine and oak trees that have naturally sprouted on their own. The existing poplar grove is doing a fair job of expanding its reach and many of the existing pines are growing strong.
We look forward to shepherding this acreage toward becoming its own little forested space on the north side of our driveway for years to come. Based on clear evidence revealed on our walk, the deer are already fond of bedding down there.
Happy 11th Anniversary, Wintervale!
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Side Views
Asher and I spent a little time out behind the house yesterday morning in the space that I think of as our “side yard.” It produced this collection of views that caught my eye…
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I hope these provide a sense of the beauty and tranquility that we are blessed to enjoy in our little paradise. Maybe not so tranquil for the burrowing rodents that Asher seeks to root out, but otherwise, heavenly in the fall, under majestic old trees on a bright, sunny day.
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Beauty Sacrificed
I was clearing growth from one of our trails and came upon this wonderful sight:
Then I cut it down. [sad face] I sure love the look of those leaves.
There was a time when Cyndie and I were so invested in having as many trees as possible that we couldn’t push ourselves to cut any of the volunteer growth that sprouted. We tried hard to transplant the little oaks and maples that showed up in locations where they shouldn’t be.
Those efforts were rarely rewarded. We saw so many transplants die and so many new sprouts return every year that we finally came to our senses and allowed ourselves to cut growth that popped up where we didn’t want it. These days, I’ve become much more ruthless than I ever imagined when it comes to culling new sprouts.
Yesterday, I found myself working in the vicinity of Cyndie’s perennial garden to cut back overgrowth. There is a point in the summer when unwatched growth goes nuts all of a sudden. Junk trees must gain a foot every day or two. Weeds jump to heights taller than the trees.
Along the trail behind her garden where I had weed-whacked early in the summer, there were little explosions of growth rising out of previously cut stumps. (We don’t apply any chemicals to the stumps after cutting.) When I cut down medium-to-small diameter tree trunks to clear a trail, stumps sprout countless new replacement shoots. If I don’t return in a timely fashion to eliminate the new sprouts, what was once a single tree becomes a monstrous shrub.
If I am tenacious enough to do frequent battles against the stumps’ attempts to reclaim their former glory, follow-up pruning isn’t that big of a deal. But if I wait a little too long, it requires a lot more effort. Luckily, it only takes two or three growing seasons before the stumps finally give up and I ultimately get my way. At that point, my well-groomed trails become as visually pleasing as the beautiful surrounding trees that we didn’t need to sacrifice.
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Different Sleep
A change of perspective is always a valuable experience for me and this weekend up at the lake we have been residing in the old cabin #3 beside the main log house above the water. It is one of the original cabins of the former fishing lodge that Cyndie’s family saved when the Wildwood Association transitioned to families owning individual lots.
The Friswolds moved cabin 3 to a new foundation farther back from the lake to make room for the new log home they had built back in the early 1980s. When our kids were young, we spent most of our time up here in the old cabin, granting people in the big house respite from the clamor of infants waking early and the occasional outbursts of either glee or angst associated with that age.
Currently, there are no young ones of the next generation in the family and cabin 3 gets used less often, primarily as overflow accommodations when attendance numbers swell for a weekend.
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Cyndie and I are really enjoying the throwback to a time when our primary experience up at the lake was from the vantage point of the old, and much smaller cabin.
I have been sleeping deeper than in recent memory and with Asher left back in Beldenville with a sitter for this visit, we have no reasons to rise early. This morning the 8 o’clock hour had arrived before we got up. I had woken early and read the whole paper in bed on my computer and then faded into a morning nap that felt rather decadent.
The small rooms and close proximity to the ground (in the big house we usually sleep in the loft) make it feel like we are almost sleeping outdoors.
The view out the back window is one I relish for the trees and forest floor I’m most attracted to for a natural environment.
It’s as if I’m forest bathing all night long as I sleep.
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Top Down
With a title like “Top Down,” you might suspect my mind is stuck on the incredible and a little bit crazy escapades of the Tour de France racers making their way down the sides of mountains at ridiculous speeds. I’ll admit, the thought did cross my mind but, no, this choice of words came from the way the tree in front of the house next door is dying.
When we were up here for Memorial Day weekend, the leaves all looked healthy, but Tom told me it was going to die because squirrels (the most likely culprits) had eaten away the bark over winter.
There is no denying the accuracy of his prediction now. I was startled to see how dramatically the demise was represented in the gradual decline of life from the top down.
In circumstances that echo our experience with the maple tree we transplanted to the center of our labyrinth at home, this was the fourth tree that Tom and his dad had tried growing in that spot. This one had finally proved a success but now that achievement has ended up being short-lived.
At least a half-dozen other similar-sized trees on the properties up here suffered the same fate over the winter. I don’t know what drove critters to devour so much tree bark up here last year, but now I want to wrap the trunk of our maple at home before next winter arrives.
It’s such a helpless feeling watching a tree slowly die.
Meanwhile, the number of little oak sprouts that appear on our beach every year (only to get plucked because… it is a beach!) is mind-boggling.
I’d like to volunteer to transplant a handful of those sprouts up to the vicinity of the dying maple of the Whitlock’s and we can see if one takes.
We’ve all been marveling over how unnoticeable it is that so many trees were cut down up here last November. The remaining trees have done well to fill in the gaps that were created by the removal of ailing ones.
If the planet hadn’t just set a new record for the hottest temperature ever recorded, I’d feel a bit more optimistic about the overall health of our forests up at the lake as well as at home.
It certainly has me appreciating what we have at this moment. Here’s to all the trees that are currently healthy from the top down.
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Underground Conversations
After listening to a Radiolab podcast Cyndie turned on while we were eating breakfast (From Tree to Shining Tree) about the complex web of fungi and tree roots underground, I decided to head out for a bike ride yesterday. I chose a route that retraced the last leg of the great 60-mile ride from Minneapolis to Beldenville that my friend, Paul Keiski and I planned in recognition of our 60th birthdays.
That last section always haunts me for the wrong turn I made that moved our 60-mile ride closer to a 70-mile one. I have a history of confusing my orientation and choosing turns that are 180° in the wrong direction. The right turn I made on that fateful day almost four years ago makes absolutely no sense. It was really hot and I was very fatigued but that turn should have been entirely obvious.
Every time I have ridden those roads since that day, I take great pleasure in making the correct turn without a moment of hesitation. Yesterday, I rode 32 miles of country roads past farms with freshly mowed grass, an occasional horse, and a lot of lounging cows. I spotted multiple patches of flowering trillium and a lot of trees with newly sprouted leaves.
There is so much happening in the plant world right now, I began to wonder about how many underground conversations must be occurring throughout the incredible network of roots and fungi in the dirt. How much energy must be traveling up all the countless number of tree branches during this phase when buds open and leaves emerge?
Our forests are starting to look like forests again.
Seeing all the leaves pop out tells me the network of underground communication must be functioning well in our woods. I’m particularly thrilled that the maple tree we transplanted to the center of the labyrinth (after our first three attempts failed) appears to have made the necessary underground connections to thrive.
I can’t imagine what those conversations must have been like. We plopped that tree into the ground in a location that isolated it from any other existing trees. At least, that’s the way it looked from above ground. Down in the dirt, I’m guessing there were more tentacles of growing roots and fungi than one might expect. Thank goodness for that if that’s what it took for this one to survive the trauma of being moved.
Thinking about this makes me want to take as much care to nurture our forest floor as I direct toward the trees above.
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Asher Digs
It is no surprise to learn that Asher digs after the scent of critters in the ground similar to the way our previous dog, Delilah did. Since the digging done by dogs is so destructive to our lawn areas, we spend a lot of energy discouraging digging in the grass. However, when on walks through the woods, I like to give a dog the chance to exercise their natural instinct. Yesterday, Asher plowed after something his nose told him was there.
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His efforts failed to produce any reward, but like Delilah many times before, that didn’t seem to matter. He just returned to the trail and we resumed our walk along the perimeter of our property.
Within a day or two of getting Asher home last week, Cyndie and I noticed he was adjusting to our regular routine more than we were changing our days to accommodate him. It’s another sign for me that he will be a good fit for the kind of pet we would like to have. After a bit of whining yesterday, he settled down for a good chunk of time in our outdoor kennel while we worked nearby. Cyndie was planting in her produce garden and I did my core strength and stretching exercises.
I recently read a recommendation that yoga routines can be enhanced by doing them outdoors and our philosophy of promoting the health benefits of forest bathing seemed to boost the idea doubly for me. This week I have moved my planking and stretching outside beneath the branches of two large trees. I’ve also made a change to the time of day I start, which doesn’t feel like it fits my routine yet but does offer a chance to linger in bed for a bit after waking. Slowly getting out of bed feels like a BIG luxury that suits me, even though working out first thing in the morning has always been my preference.
There are a few details I hadn’t considered when thinking it would be great to be outside. The mosquitos could become a problem and ants have already been a nuisance. The leaves aren’t completely opened yet so the sun was a little hard on my eyes yesterday. The ground not being perfectly flat is probably good in terms of adding difficulty for some balance routines but one particular bump interfered with keeping my back as flat as I wanted while stretching my hamstring muscles.
Speaking of new leaves opening up, I found this little specimen of baby oak leaves on the driveway beneath one of our biggest trees. They hardly got started and now it’s already over for them. That little sprig was about an inch across.
It’s sad to admit these brand-new leaves won’t even be missed. There won’t be a “bald spot” in the tree where they would have been. That tree will have more leaves than can be counted. At least we’ve given them worthy respect and have saved an image of them that will outlast all the rest of the leaves that survive them.
We are so very lucky to have all our trees. Looking up into the leaves when doing a cobra stretch is a great alternative to the ceiling of one of our rooms.
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Relative Something 