Peripatetic philomaths…focusing on what's really important, eating ethically and cleanly, fermenting, foraging/wildcrafting, practicing herbalism, and being responsible stewards of our land. Sharing our photos, musings, and learnings. Still seeking our tribe.
I’ve seen oak leaves, mixed with what are predominantly maple leaves, in the pastures, and have wondered about their provenance. To my knowledge, there are no oak trees here, though I’ve seen them at nearby parks and other properties. So where, exactly, were these leaves coming from?
Sometimes, it feels like an individual’s efforts don’t make much of a difference in the grand scheme of things. In the face of rapidly-escalating climate crisis, the evolving pandemic, and social and political unrest, the future (and present) can seem pretty bleak.
I think that tree bark, like cloud formations, lends itself to woolgathering. Do you see a face in this image? Does it have an expression? And even without invoking the imagination, the interplay of light and shadows, as well as the variety of colors made me stop and appreciate the feeling it created.
The big silver maple has shed her seeds and is now crowned in green leaves. As I pulled the feed cart to the barn, I noticed that the carpet of samaras (underfoot everywhere in this area beneath the big maple) sported a few that seemed to be sticking straight up out of the ground. I had to take a closer look, right?
Just shy of a month ago, we had snow on the ground. I was worried about how the budding trees and plants would fare, but the mulberry tree, at least, is looking none the worse for wear: it’s full of green berries!
Anthropomorphizing much? Sure…but I’ve come to think of the big silver maple as a stately lady, especially at this time of year, when her samaras rain down to earth. They’re edible, but I don’t harvest them for two reasons: (1) I have plenty of other food options and (2) I want to see the seeds germinate in the soil.
As today’s breezes blow the samaras hither and yon, I’ll be wishing them luck and hoping they begin life – just as the maple is, no doubt.
The ice storm arrived, as forecast, yesterday afternoon. By dusk (evening chores), a thick layer of slushy ice pellets lay upon the ground, accompanied by continued falling sleet and rain. This morning, the world around us looked very different…and very cold.
The line was at the Early Voting station – the tree was along the sidewalk where we waited to enter the building. The beauty all around us was in full display here: maple trees had been planted near an unremarkable building that was fronted by an unappealing (and noisy) road, breaking up the inorganic surroundings with their organic exuberance. Looking up, I saw bright oranges and yellows against a cerulean backdrop…not just dull gray concrete and vehicles driving by. It was a welcome visual treat.
I think every person should have access to trees – to enjoy, to touch, to revere. Sadly, I know that some people don’t…and I have lived in places with very few trees, stunted creatures that did their best to survive surrounded by concrete, blanketed by pollution, and subjected to abuse and neglect. They still put forth their hopeful leaves and continued reaching toward the sun – and making oxygen for the people too preoccupied to notice them, let alone appreciate them.
I vastly prefer living, as I do now, in a place with trees. I find it difficult (if not impossible) to feel angry or stressed when looking up into the leafy canopy, shielded from the sun’s rays. It’s quiet and soothing there. Birds sing from the branches, nests hidden high above. Under the tree, it’s almost a different world.
Learn more about the health – and other – benefits of trees here.
The helicopters are here! It’s that time of year: the maples are sending down their seeds via the incredible winged delivery systems called “samaras”. With luck and the right conditions, seedlings will grow from these seeds.