Preface: I wrote something on this idea back in 2012, but after changing website services and crashing a few hard drives, it appears lost forever. So, I am giving another go at this idea.
As a woodworker, I think one should understand trees. This is a basic part of understanding the medium with which we work. Understanding how the tree grew, where the knots come from, what the sap wood is...it’s all crucial to understanding why the wood looks like it does, moves as it will, and so on.
As a member of the human race, I think it’s good to understand trees too. I live in Washington, DC--about one mile behind the iconic Capitol Building. Having spent the first half of my life in more rural settings surrounded by trees and woods, I truly appreciate that the city does what it can, and organizations like Casey Trees exist to help educate people about caring for trees, and directly planting them throughout the city. Why care about trees? Well, there are some obvious things you should remember from your biology class, like the fact that trees clean the air of carbon dioxide and create oxygen (their respiration process essentially complements our own). They also provide homes and food for little woodland creatures and birds, offer shade, contribute to the water cycle, and so on.
Beyond that basic stuff, I like to think about how trees contribute to our lives in less scientific ways. And like to think of them as our friends, working to complement our lives, as they do with their respiration, giving us what we need, when we need it, following the schedule of the seasons. You may think this sappy (get it?!) and you may be right. This may be a self-indulgent post, but most blog posts are in many ways a bit self-indulgent. So, here goes:
Trees don’t get much attention in winter. Their branches are bare of leaves; some people are still cursing the mess those leaves left on their way out. I have come to actually look forward to this part of the year for this view of the trees. Regardless of the weather: a cloudy, cold, gray, January day, or a sunny, blue-sky late February, their forms are often the most striking thing on the landscape in winter. It’s a subtle reminder that the rest of the year this form is hidden by leaves...and that a few months ago when we thought trees were at their autumn beauty peak, this remained to be seen.
Denuded of their leaves, exposed in our most difficult weather conditions, they also embody a fortitude as they stand, bare, against wind, snow, rain, and cold. Fortitude is something we can all use during long winter days. And the long winter days...if we allow ourselves to be a bit whimsical (and you’ll have to indulge me throughout this post, or go elsewhere)...it’s almost as though the trees were like, oh friend, the days are getting shorter, really short actually, and light is so limited. I’m going shed these leaves and ensure as much of our sun’s light gets to you as possible. I’d hate to shade it out for even an extra inch this time of year.
As spring hits, the trees, again, respond almost in concert with our needs. One of my favorite things is the moment the leaves start to form, but have not yet unfolded on their branches. This is perhaps the moment Robert Frost referred to in his poem, Nothing Gold Can Stay with the line “Nature’s first green is gold.” The trees really do glow a warm yellow hue in this moment. In a good year, many trees will hit this point at the same time and hold it for a few days. In my neighborhood, there are long blocks of streets lined with elm trees whose vassal habits create tree canopy tunnel. On these days, the dog gets an extra long walk and I’m useless for work. Whimsy...I think the trees are almost telling us, OK- the darkness is over. Longer days are on the way. We’re so excited for those longer days that we’re going to use our leaves to make the evening and morning glow...adding just a few more minutes of light to your day. This is around the same time that magical flowers appear: cherry blossoms (DC’s iconic flower, pollinated by tourists), but also redbuds. Both glow, directly from the branches of the trees...unlike most flowers that first need leaves, these blossoms, to me, seem like spring energy manifested: they are too excited to wait for any leaves--they just pop right out of their branches. And like spring, they pass very quickly.
As summer heat approaches, we can have no better friend than our trees to help keep us stay cool. Scientifically, the respiration process of the trees’ leaves actually cools the air temperature as it releases water. The chemicals released by conifers can even create clouds and rain. More obviously, the leaves/branches shield us, and the ground/pavement (especially important in a city) from the sun’s radiation. Growing up, we had a large maple tree in the middle of our backyard. In the 1980s, in central NY, very few people had air conditioning, but this maple tree provided the coolest spot in the neighborhood for a midday break from the heat. We never needed to rent a tent for family picnics either. (as another example of fortitude, this tree was struck by lightning, twice, and is maybe half the tree it was 20 years ago, yet it stands and persists). Whimsy: I like to think of the leaves of the trees kinda assisting the breezes of summer. Almost as the trees are saying, geez it’s hot...let me fan this breeze a little and you cool down. They also house games, forts, and create an air conditioned playground for kids, who like me, spent much of their childhoods outdoors...perhaps the trees kept a watchful gaze on us while our parents were busy.
Trees are perhaps most noticed in the fall, as their colors change. This is, of course, part of a scientific process in which the chlorophyll, which gave the leaves their green color to begin with, breaks down as daylight and temperatures decrease. The fruit of trees is now ripe and humans and creatures begin to collect nutrient and calorie dense food that can sustain them through the winter (humans can and do eat acorns, by the way). In DC, this is also when the many ginko trees begin dropping their stinky fruit, a transgression we all quickly forgive as they turn brilliant yellow and light up streets even at midday. Whimsy: trees know that the darkest part of the year is hard. They think: OK human friends, it’s about to be darker and colder than you really want...and you’re getting sad: watch this! The spectacular fall colors are mesmerizing and, in some ways, are like the finale of nature’s performance. It’s a signal that it’s time to go home/inside, to spend time reflecting on the past months (and perhaps on the fascinating lives of trees). Those beautiful leaves drop like the curtail fall at the end of the show. And the cycle starts again.
I know this is sappy and I don’t care. Trees are so important to our well being--not just for the scientific things they do like clean the air and provide shade--but emotionally as well. Studies demonstrate that trees add to our well-being: homes on tree lined streets sell higher than comparable houses on streets without trees; people spend more time in stores on tree-lined streets, and so on. Trees are critical to our ecosystem and are fascinating organisms. I highly encourage people to read The Hidden Lives of Trees by Peter Wohlleben, in which the author describes how trees work as a community, help heal and feed one another, communicate, suckle their young, among many other seemingly magical things.