Tree Things: A Walk in the Home Woods

Tree Things

A Walk in the Home Woods

March 2, 2019

Is this early spring or late winter?

In the Midwest it can be either - that undefinable time that switches between the two from one day to another, or one part of a day to another.

There was one thing I knew for sure: only the Harbinger-of-Spring would be in bloom (Erigenia bulbosa). After my eyes adjusted to one of then, I could see many of these small clusters of tiny flowers, barely poking above the forest floor their delicate leaves rarely visible.

I had entered my woods from the road, along the deer trail, and wandered downhill to where our lowland area begins - where the creek enters our property via and under-the-road culvert. I wandered through the widening lowland, where tributaries crawled and curled across the wet ground to eventually meet with the main creek. I then wandered up slopes to the upland woods.

In the first part of the lowland, I stopped to visit one of my old friends, an large double-trunk American Sycamore tree (Platanus occidentalis). The most notable feature of this particular Sycamore is the gaping mouth-like hole at the base, as if the old being just woke up and is yawning, stretching out its arms (two huge roots) across the forest floor.

Surely, something, or more than one something, must take refuge here now and then, or maybe even take up residence. I have never crawled around to see how deeply the holes go into the tree. But, then, I'm wary of disturbing a something.

Silas was very curious, too.

Sometime I will choose a spot with this tree in view and just watch and listen.

Sycamores are one of my favorite species of trees, and one reason is the very decorative bark. Parts of the trees have regular ol' scaly gray bark. But, this peels off in little layers, revealing an array of multi-toned splotches, like paints spilled here and there.

I often find curled pieces of smooth Sycamore bark on forest floors.

Toward the upper reaches of the tree, where all bark has fallen, the tree is left completely white. From a distance, trunks and branches of Sycamores show starkly among other trees, sometimes shimmering in the sun.

That is another of the many things I love about Sycamore trees. Here is another thing - their fluffy balls of seeds.

They start out firm and round, marked all around, as they plunk to the forest floor from the canopy. Eventually the seed ball loosens up, succumbing to time, the elements, and to birds and other wildlife that poke at it to extract seeds for food. Sometimes the seed ball breaks apart with the fluffy seeds forming interesting, swirly designs. Sometimes it appears to have exploded, the feathery seeds strewn about. Besides being spread by wildlife, the seeds are also scattered by gusts of wind or pushed along rivulets and streams by rushing water after heavy rains.

I noticed a dark spot in the crook of the Sycamore tree, between its two trunks. Reaching in, I found rich, black humus that any gardener would relish. For many years leaves, twigs, animal droppings and other organic items have collected here, and have been watered by rain and snow, and moisture dripping from leaves above. They have been broken down by a myriad of both visible and microscopic organisms, including bacteria and fungi, forming this rich compost.

There were already roots of some plant in there. Seeds blown in by the wind or dropped by birds could easily take root here. Likewise, spores of fungi and ferns could find an amenable spot to begin new life. In the crook of this Sycamore a little world has been created. I will check this spot throughout the year to see what may appear.

This Sycamore served as a jumping-off point for noticing other trees, and similar aspects of them, throughout the woods.

There was the contrast and variety in the bark of different tree species, with various colors, designs and textures.

A young Hackberry (Celtis occidentalis) - or is it a Sugarberry (C. laevigata)?

 A large White Oak tree (Quercus alba) in the upland area

This tree looks like its trousers were too long, slumping down at the feet

Besides the Sycamore seed balls, there were the "cones: of Tulip Tree (Liriodendron tulipifera) seed heads. Some still contained the long, paddle-like seeds clustered tightly around the center. Some were surrounded by seeds that had shattered off and away. 

And some were bare of seeds, with nothing left but the protective circle of old sepals and the lance-like structure in the center.

I envisioned the tree as it was last spring, its bright orange/green/yellow flowers held like cups-and-saucers on the branches, swirls of stamens and pistils inside the ring of colorful petals.

It is common to come across Black Walnut seeds (Juglans nigra) in our woods, often carried away from their "mother trees" by squirrels.

At this time of year, the green-turned-black husks are long gone, having rotted and fallen away, revealing the stony, furrowed nut shell. To get to the delicious, oily, rich nut inside, we need a hammer and some real effort. So, I am always amazed to find shells opened by squirrels, with their teeth left on the shell.

Just as I saw the Circle of Life happening in the crook of the Sycamore, I found it happening, in various ways, throughout the woods, associated with other trees. Usually, the work of animals was obvious.

A rotten log - animals have been helping the process when they scratch around in the soft wood, looking for little critters to eat

This leaning branch has had its bark newly scraped off - by deer?

An old vine that had grown up this tree has gradually disintegrated, and a small woodpecker has been drilling holes into the space

Woodpecker hole in an old segment of an American Hornbeam

Sometimes I found plant-to-plant (tree) associations.

Years ago, an American Cottonwood tree (Populus deltoids) in the lowland had fallen, the top lodging in the crook of a double-trunk Red Oak tree in the upland

One of my favorite sights - old Grape vines decorating this large tree in a rather Gothic manner

Leaves of the native Puttyroot Orchid (Aplectrum hyemale) - these plants were given to me by a friend and I planted them several years ago at the base of an upland tree - I am hoping for them to establish a good relationship with the tree's roots and then flourish and multiply

This tree on a slope has created a cozy microclimate for these Spring Beauty plants (Claytonia virginica), allowing them to come near to blooming well before others of their species

But, often it was a combination.

A standing tree had rotted, and a segment recently fell to the floor, breaking into large sections, scattering pieces of loose bark

One broken section is riddled with Woodpecker holes - all of the pieces are also riddled with holes made by smaller creatures whose actions have helped break down the wood

When the section of tree fell, it dropped across this young tree, bending some of the branches and holding them down (they will grow in a distorted fashion) and tearing one most of the way from the trunk - a large wound for such a small tree, which will either heal or invite forces (animal, disease, etc.) that will affect the young tree quite differently

Then, there were the mysteries, like the "mouth" in the Sycamore.

A secret door to another world?

The Ghost Owl in the Tree

A "ghost face" in this piece of wood

An old tree root I named "Krampus" for the monstrous Alpine folk figure that appears on St. Nicholas' Day

What made the interesting film on this old Sugar Maple leaf (Acer saccharum)? It is a solid film that can be peeled off the leaf.

These mysteries and other aspects of trees were so clear to see on this leafless day.

Before long, I knew, the forest floor would be so covered in wildflowers and ferns that I wouldn't know where to step. The coming warmer days would bring forth a greater variety of fascinating fungi. The canopy would be filled with dense greenery and intense birdsong.

From year-to-year, it is still not easy to imagine the woods in one season while standing amidst another.

One more mystery!

I see plenty of American Hornbeams (Carpinus caroliniana) in my woods, with their smooth, gray, muscle-like bark. They are also called Blue Beech, though they are not truly Beeches.

Why do I not find American Beech trees (Fagus grandifolia)? There are plenty of them in the area, including some huge, venerable old ones just a little ways up the road.

A couple of years ago, I thought I found one young American Beech tree near the woods' bottom, its lovely, tan-peachy autumn leaves clinging to its branches all winter.

Can you see it, in the center left?

Is it, really?  We'll keep watching.